EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE -PART THREE-
by Starskylicious
Summary: A story of silence, hurt, love and redemption with a glimpse of hope and a promise of a future.


**ACT 14 -IN HOT PURSUIT-**

They had him cornered, they knew very well.

They were waiting for him. They were excited.

They felt close, very close.

They _were_ close.

All the useful information that Leon had told them and they knew through the grapevine about Parry's whereabouts was counting now.

And they could reach him.

They arrived early at Central Library that Monday, the 13th June.

Since hour's services were beginning at 10.00 AM, they parked Hutch's Datsun, at the Library's Parking Lot at around 9.30. Only to wait. They didn't bring Starsky's striking and flashy blue Camaro.

It was no good being so obvious.

"Heads, I win. Tails, you lose."

Starsky proposed.

He tried to use the silly coin game which he was very fond of to decide whether he should be the one who enter the Library or stay outside. The brown-haired man wanted to be the one who stayed outside like he had always done. He wanted to remain at the corner of the rear entrance of the Library waiting for his partner's signal in case he couldn't be able to get to Parry inside. He wanted to catch the killer, just in case, he might try to escape.

"Starsky? I thought you were passed through that infant stage you insist on living in! that you were going to use this weekend alone to reflect on your actions!" Starsky frowned, and Hutch clarified. "Since you didn't come with me to the cabin… thought that you were going to do some insight about your behavior these past days, but no! You start again with yet another whim like you always do."

"Whim? What?" Starsky said totally unaware of Hutch's intentions.

"Yes, partner. I mean, when it'll be the time that we make a decision about the way we're going to lay out an operation based on whichever is more appropriate to do rather than trusting in a random lucky game like this?"

"It's been thirteen years Hutch, and we've always worked this way," Starsky said surprised, "What's the deal now, buddy?" he finished.

"That's a lot of time! So maybe it's about time we make a change, Starsk. I mean, we've got plenty of time to think about the best way to handle this operation. There's no need to leaving everything freed to chance or intuition or worst! To stick to this 'magical thinking and superstitious ways' like the coin flipping thing. We've already discussed this past Friday, didn't we? Improvisation! That's your Lifestyle, buddy."

"My Lifestyle? I love my way of life! But what about it or this magical thinking you're talking about? What's that?" Starsky pretended he didn't know what his partner was talking about, but he knew very well. Yet, he loved to play the moron when it came to Hutch sometimes. Starsky's law, as he liked to say.

"Don't tell me you don't know what it is Starsky! The magical thinking's the awarding of several and random consequences between the behaviors and the course of determining events that cannot be justified by reason and sighting with any scientific ratio." Hutch said pompously.

"Wow, you sound like a philosopher. You could be Heracles or maybe Platoon; you're a real pro, Hutch. Sometimes I wonder why you're partnered with me. You're so serious!" Starsky teased him.

"Heraclitus and Plato, Starsky! And yes! I am serious. I'm a serious person, Starsk! I have always been."

"Whoever! I don't know Latin, Hutch!"

"That's not Latin. Oh, For Christ's sake! They were Greeks, Starsk; they were not Romans!"

"It's okay, buddy, just the same. I mean '_Panta Rhei' Hutch!"_ and Starsky winked at his partner and laughed paraphrasing the famous sentence of the Pre-Socratic philosophy.

Hutch looked at him, thoughtfully and suspicious and then asked him "Are you pulling my leg? You know what I mean, don't you?" Starsky cracked a sounded laugh. "Damn you!" the flaxen-haired said.

They both laughed.

"Anyway pal, why don't you let Babcock be the one doing surveillance at the rear today for a change… uh?" Hutch said hurriedly "I mean, it's better for you to stay here, waiting for my signal in the car or entering the Library."

"Why? Why's that?" Starsky wasn't so sure whether that would be the best idea as Hutch suggested. Inside the car, he sure felt breathless and going into the Library it would be too much for him at the time.

"Well, if you enter the Library you can read those literary lampoons you so called books. Or maybe, if you stay here you could play 'I Spy' or sing 'Itsy Bitsy Spider,' my little Davey boy. Nobody would notice!" Hutch laughed and shook his head. "You and your childish games. Flipping a coin for Christ's sake!"

Starsky squinted although laughed dearly at such expression of brotherly love.

Well, Hutch being the older brother of the two, of course, he tried to reasoning.

That was the way they were, and they had always been.

Hutch also laughed.

The blond-haired man could tell that Starsky sounded somehow out of breath.

The same way that he had been during all the past week. That's why he thought that maybe, this time it would be better if it were not him the one who waited outside for Parry, in case the man wanted to escape. Besides, he could always rely on Starsky undercover as a student and waiting for Leon to give him the right signal. That way, he could protect his partner of… "_Wait, protect him from what or whom?" _he wondered.

Maybe he was seeing ghosts already.

He pledged himself to stop doing it; "_no more phantoms or feeling scared,not anymore. Oh My God! Stop this mother hen mood, I'm going crazy"_, the blond one thought, and then he realized that perhaps Leon wouldn't trust in anyone but in him.

So he refrained himself and skipped the idea. He shut up and let Starsky did his silly ploy, the coin flipping to decide, like always.

Of course, Starsky won, and Hutch lose.

So after a few minutes inside the car, when they saw that Leon had arrived at the Library, Hutch headed right behind him, all wired, and into the Main building to play his part.

Hutch would pose as a student and would wait for Leon to show him who the killer was.

Then he would indicate his partner and the others, who were going to be in surveillance, the exact moment Parry arrived there, and they would swoop him.

An ambush. Only to catch him.

Simple.

Three hours later upon Leon's arrival, they were still there bolted to their positions. Any sign of Parry was nowhere to be seen, and they were getting very anxious.

Starsky especially.

"Hutch," the brunet's voice came into the blond's ear out of nowhere. "I've started feeling that this is a dead-beat, buddy. No pun intended, but I feel royally screwed here at the moment."

"Oh, hold your horses, Squire! He's gonna show up! You remember hours of service are until 8 PM on Mondays? So we have... uh." Hutch took a look at his waist watch, "7 more hours to go, partner! Relax." was Hutch's soft response.

The taller detective was very interested reading Herman Hesse's 'The Steppenwolf' one of the books that were listed as one of Parry's choices that he had earlier borrowed from the Library. So amused that he wasn't paying any attention to Starsky at all, in fact.

"Oh yeah…" the irked man said, "but I expect he ain't going to wait that long to do it. Is he, blondie? I mean, I'm all stiff here, trapped inside your small car that's devoid of any comfort." He waited for a second; Hutch didn't say anything, so he continued, trying to provoke a reaction in his partner. "It's hot. I'm bored, and I'm feeling uncomfortable! I'm feeling miserable! What else would I need to feel and realize that I'm already living a nightmare? I even read all the magazines I've brought here!" He made another pause, he was getting nervy… "Hutch?" He realized that the blond haired man wasn't paying any attention to his nagging complaints.

He insisted.

"Hutch? Did Leon say which his usual time is? I'm peeing." Starsky changed his strategy and asked casually.

In fact, the brunet was worried because he had already taken the second capsule of Albuterol one hour ago, and he only had one more.

He was nervous.

Since the past two days, he had been in need of pills every four hours, and he had already started to sense the dreadful chest tightness that began lashing fiercely as usual lately. He also was kind of restless, so he added, "Besides, it looks like I'm here for eternity, this stakeout and your ticky-tacky car they are both choking-hazard, buddy." Starsky made a timid attempt to a smile.

"It takes me wherever I wanna go; that's a transportation for. But speaking of eternity, listen, buddy, I wanna read you something." Hutch's voice sounded clear from the other side of the radio, and he said. "'In eternity there is no time, only an instant long enough for a joke' Do you like it?" The taller man wasn't interested in Starsky's ramblings so absorbed in the book he was reading.

"What's that?" Starsky asked gravely.

"The meaning of life?"

"By whom?"

"Hermann Hesse. The Steppenwolf, like I said, one of Parry's borrowed books lately… kind of interesting, don't you think? I'm reading it."

"Oh yeah…", Starsky said, clearly not interested.

He realized that Hutch's wasn't paying attention at all to what he was saying, so the curly-haired man folded his arms again, got quiet and started listening to yet another song.

Two hours later, they were still waiting for the show to start.

The boredom and confinement were so unbearable for Starsky and the lack of air so oppressive that he began to feel profoundly dim and anxious until suddenly he heard Hutch's voice cracking a loud shout into the car.

"Watch out, Starsk! He's arrived!"

The curly haired man got off the car and took his position at the rear door as planned.

Simmons and Babcock did the same all at once.

They were all around the building. Simmons, along with Starsky. Babcock at the main entrance

They listened to Hutch's words, describing every single move that Parry was doing at the Library.

Until something went wrong.

"All Zebras!" Hutch repeated the order to all units "All Zebras! He's escaping out of the building through the back exit!"

Now he was crying over the microphone to Starsky and the others. They were all breathless... and nervous; worried and annoyed to have wasted, such unique chance to get to the man, maybe, and Starsky wasn't just the only one to feel disillusioned.

The hell they were, their excitement was rather bigger than themselves. So Hutch didn't pay attention to any other sign but his own frustration.

When the most wanted man entered the Library, he got straight to the front desk, and Leon gave Hutch the signal to go and get him. Parry immediately realized of whom Hutch was as if he had known him. In fact, he did. And after that brief recognition, he started running desperately toward the rear gateway of the building. On his way, he pushed people to the exit door and threw a couple of women to the floor in his frantic escape.

The only definite good thing about it was that Hutch had been able to take a look at the man and his horrid and malign face in the middle of his outburst.

Hutch shivered.

The man looked like the devil, so white and hyaline as if he were a debauched ghost.

Leon was right, the devil was imprinted all over Parry's face, etched in every inch of his features.

The fact was that something had gone utterly wrong, and Hutch didn't know what it was as if the killer had a sixth sense or something.

"_Magical thinking, damn!"_ Hutch thought.

The truth was that they were all worried to have spilled such opportunity through their fingers.

It had been 15 months since they were searching for this dangerous man and trying to find him… and they were in hot pursuit.

Their target: Madoc "Mad" Parry.

At the straightforward and clear command, Starsky started running right in front of Hutch and behind Parry. Like a flash, he crossed at full speed Flower St. and then he turned to the right at the corner of Figueroa.

The blond-haired detective didn't watch him stumble, didn't see him fall.

That, until he turned the same corner too, and he could see him.

Starsky was sprawled on the roadway; his arms outstretched.

The legs untangled.

Hutch cried "Starsky!" and the dark-haired man didn't react and the worried partner didn't know what had happened though he kept on running behind Parry since he hadn't heard a shot or anything.

He cried again "Starsky!"

And again even louder "Starsky!"

And when he turned his head again one last time to see if the curly haired man had responded he saw Simmons, bending down to the brunet's side, trying to assess him. Beckoning him with his hand to keep on going; silently saying that Starsky was all right.

So he speeded up to try to reach Madoc; they couldn't give themselves the luxury to lose the man either.

"_God why I ought to keep on running? I can't do this job anymore…" _He thought, but he did. He ran.

"Starsky come on, man, come on. No, not again, wake up, Starsky! Don't scare me!" Simmons was frantic.

Starsky stayed supine, out cold, taking rapid and shallow respirations. His abdomen was rising, up and down, uncontrollably. His eyes were wide open, lost in the blue sky above. A crowd of onlookers started gathering around him; he could hear the worried murmurs of those who were at his side rustling their concerned exclamations, but he couldn't move. Simmons started yelling at them to go and call an ambulance.

So the grocery's attendant did. The boy was by Starsky's side and went inside the store to put the phone call.

Time seemed stuck in those seconds in which he didn't respond, so everybody held their breaths in waiting. It was very frightening.

He was there, slumped on the floor. Like lifeless.

The brunet was scared. He couldn't move.

Simmons was afraid that the dark-haired man's condition was just the same that had happened to him last Monday.

There they were.

And they couldn't react.

After a few moments of hesitation, Simmons raised Starsky's head, and he snapped his fingers trying to get him back. He was conscious but unresponsive, and suddenly he seemed to focus a little though his eyes were still distant, confused, and Simmons realized that he was mumbling something he could barely hear.

"What? Can't hear you, man" the trembling officer said aloud to his fallen comrade.

Nothing.

"Come on, Starsky, try harder, what are you saying?"

They crossed their sights and with all the strength that the brunet could muster he finally said the word, 'pocket.' The detective started searching in Starsky's jacket, wildly, until he found them.

There they were. The same capsules Simmons had personally given him past Monday from the infirmary.

The cop started screaming into Roger Babcock's ear who was motionless beside him to go and get a glass of water when he realized that the grocery's attendant was already by his side with it in his hands.

He put the capsule into Starsky's mouth and ordered him to swallow.

So he did.

A few minutes later, in the distance, they saw Hutch, who was running and coming back, resigned. He was looking lost and wearing his translucent and contorted face and puffing his cheek out, out of breath and above all with his hands empty.

Also, out of Parry, sadly.

They had lost him.

The taller man crouched beside Starsky and Simmons, and asked them in turns, timidly with much fear almost trembling, what had happened.

"Peter? What's going on, what happened?" then he softly stroked Starsky's hair and directed his sight back to him repeating the same question, "Buddy, tell me what happened?"

Peter Simmons took a look at Starsky's face. He realized that the brunet, though on the mend, was still unable to utter a sound and couldn't get out of his face the fear that Hutch would find out what was happening. That's why he decided to take the lead since he reckoned that otherwise, Starsky would collapse… And he said, "Nothing happened Hutch, I mean maybe, hmm… I believe he tripped and hit his head a bit? That's all".

At that moment, Starsky took a deep and relieved breath since he had begun to recognize that he was at Simmons' mercy.

"_Thanks, Peter, thank you,"_ the brunet thought.

And then he started trying to stand up to show Hutch that everything was alright, though everybody, even Hutch realized that he couldn't do it yet, still dizzy and confused. Fortunately, the sound of the ambulance's siren diverted the attention of all who were there, letting them all find a little relief.

Hutch stood up and signaled the ambulance to hurry, all business and concerned since his partner was still laid down on the asphalt and unable to move.

Starsky was breathless; still couldn't catch his breath and that mere fact only terrified him.

*********************S&H***********************

He run for so long, so desperately that finally he lost them.

In fact, he lost _him._

Somehow in the middle of the hot pursuit he had lost the blond-haired man behind too.

He had seen the moment when the other one, the brunet, had collapsed to the tarmac, just behind him. He had realized that something had happened to him, but he didn't know what that would have been, "_what might have happened?"_ He thought.

However, after his partner collapsed, the blond one, kept on running behind him, fast and furious until he decided to enter the alley, and he lost him.

And the crazy cop stopped and disappeared.

The other one, the brunet, might not have ever stopped running. Never.

Yes! He knew him that much. Parry wondered again, "_what have happened?"_

He should know.

Ought to know.

Three blocks away from the last crossroads in which he had seen the pursuer, the fugitive stopped. He was breathless and needed to stop running to gather his thoughts and recover his breath. His heartbeats slowed down, he saved his respirations and decided to take a cab and get to the place where he had last seen the fallen cop before collapsing on the tarmac.

Nobody would notice him inside the cab, he was sure.

And he must know. Besides, he loved to take risks.

When the car got near to Flower Street, to the cordoned off area, he saw from a distance the ambulance parked over there and the paramedics who were working over the brunet's body.

Though he seemed to be alright; they insisted on giving him an oxygen mask; he was sitting on the curve but talking.

The blond police officer was also there by his side.

They were like night and day.

A spectacle of nature, the whole universe in which he would delight, madly.

Later.

"_We will see again!"_ He thought.

And he signaled to the cab driver to start out.

"Move!" Parry shouted, and the tires burned.

*********************S&H***********************

"What happened?" The EMT hurriedly asked Starsky, who was still barely responsive and lying on the ground, while he assessed him. The young man checked his vitals, thoroughly; he put the stethoscope over his chest and tried to listen to his heartbeat and his breathing sounds, the paramedic was all business.

"Guess I stumbled," was Starsky's short answer, more than a lie, "But I'm all right now, just a little out of breath." He started sitting on the curve without any effort, and the young technician nodded in understanding.

"Here, take this. It won't harm you, and you'll feel better," The young man grabbed the AMBU and started bagging him just to ease his breathing. "Relax, Officer, we're in charge now. My name's Ed, and we're gonna transport you, OK? Looks like there's no concussion, nor spinal or head injuries, nothing relevant" he raised his eyes to Hutch who was in expectation standing still at his partner's side "but… I don't like how his breathing sounds." He nodded to the blond.

The paramedic started diligently to try to contact the hospital and he added. "And…your blood pressure is too low." this time he said, looking at Starsky who realized it would be fruitless to try to fight the EMT.

The young doctor raised his eyebrows.

Starsky raised his eyes to Hutch, who winked at him, reassuringly and gave a feeble smile.

"Memorial, this is ALS 7."

"This is Memorial, go ahead" the static of the intercom went through the air.

"Memorial, this is Lewis. We have a male patient, responsive, approximately 40 years. Presenting the beginning stages of ARF, no visible injuries or concussions; maybe an occlusion of airways or an obstructive pneumonitis... We're gonna transport him right now, see to get him soon into a bronchoscopic examination and chest radiograph. We are already bagging him and started an IV with Salbutamol 5mg in 5ml solution. ETA 15 minutes, riding Code 2."

"Copied ALS 7."

Hutch decided to ride in the ambulance with Starsky; nobody could help it, but he looked calmed since Starsky got into the van by his own will and walking.

"Okay. Is he your partner, Officer? Would you please fill in some forms before?" the EMT asked him, so the blond man went to the front of the ambulance where he sat with the crew.

The moment in which Hutch started all the needed paperwork and the orderly began preparing Starsky for transportation he sat in the ambulance. The brunet was in the back of the van where the patients laid for transport. Simmons realized that the sick man felt restless. So he asked him what happened, and Starsky told him that he was terrified, that Hutch could find out what was going on, actually.

The moment he lay on the gurney, he begged Peter to contact Ressler and tell him to go to Memorial as fast as he could. He wanted to avoid that Hutch would be the only valid interlocutor with the physicians.

Fortunately, the technician started talking to Hutch again, distracting the blond man and Peter Simmons followed his instruction.

Starsky closed his eyes, relieved.

*********************S&H***********************

One hour later, Sam Ressler entered the waiting room in the Hospital Emergency Ward and found Hutch static, crouched in an awkward position in one of those inconceivable orange plastic chairs.

"Hutch, They told me! I tried to get here as soon as possible. I was at Cabrillo. My shift starts at 5 PM here. How's Starsky? What happened, where's he?" Sam was a bundle of nerves too, and he hurried to Hutch's side well aware of what might have happened.

"I don't know, Sam. He was running, and he fell, I guess, I - we don't know. The paramedic at the scene said that he didn't like his breathing sounds, that's all," Hutch sighed. "He wondered what it could mean. He talked about pneumonitis or something like that, so they took him to the ER. It's been more than one hour that they took him inside… And I don't know shit yet. Perhaps you can go'n get some fresh info for me?" Hutch looked like a little boy lost.

"Yes. Lemme see what I can do, okay? But relax, Goodman's in charge."

Hutch nodded, obediently.

*********************S&H***********************

"Sam, the clinical examination came back stable with no changes according from his previous one from a week ago" were Goodman's first encouraging words, "but the Arterial Blood Gas…" He shook his head in disbelief at the brunet's stats and Sam narrowed his eyes, thinking. Goodman kept talking. "The Arterial Blood Gas, which determine the amount of oxygen and carbon dioxide in his bloodstream, demonstrated that his O2 saturation tests don't come back okay. In fact, it showed that they are alarmingly low and… it looks like it's getting worse."

Sam frowned, "It can't be!" the younger man said, and Goodman continued.

"Yes! We already ordered a fine needle biopsy; we're gonna insert a thin needle through his chest wall to get a sample of tissue."

"What? Why?" Ressler asked alarmed.

"Sam, we suspect that there's… well, that there's something located at the edge of his lungs." Goodman looked at the floor and then raised his head, he continued saying. "We've found coarse crackles that are present at both lung bases only by the chest auscultation so…" he shook his head and finished saying regretfully "It's not good."

There was a long, endless silence hidden in the understatement.

They both nodded in silence. Sam was dazed, confused. He looked puzzled at Dr. Goodman while the seasoned colleague recited monotonously all the symptoms and medical practices they had followed, and they were going to subject Starsky to subsequently. The harsh words were shocking.

"Since Benzonatate wasn't working, we have tried with codeine and his coughing has subsided; now it's almost gone."

"Well, at least that's good news. I mean, is he feeling better?"

Goodman shook his head. "He hurts. Apparently, also he has a severe cold that's been going around the Precinct, though just most people didn't cough 'till they passed out like he did." The doctor shrugged without answers. "But in his case, well, you know how it is." He moved his head in resignation.

Sam stayed idle in waiting, holding his breath to the doctor's mere suggestion... "_In his case?",_ he thought, and though he could hardly listen to Goodman's words he knew that he should ask more questions, so he said, "Did you try any new method of combating bacterial infections? Any drugs?"

The red-headed doctor continued. "He's given antibiotic and oral cough syrup too but… We're going to order a Pet SCAN, and another MRI Bronchoscopy will be performed at 7 AM. With those tests and with the results of the CT scan, we did the past week and the preliminary PFT, we'll be able to conclude something else for tomorrow. So we have to admit him, Sam, I don't see another way around and… uh..." Goodman raised his eyes to the ceiling, "Well, there's no definitely easy way of saying this for me either but I - I suggest and strongly recommend, that he sees Dr. Murray right now. I've already made an appointment with him, and he'll be coming to his room at 6 PM. I'm very sorry."

"Murray? You mean John Murray? Oh, shit!" Sam took his head with one hand, shaking it from left to right; his hands ended tangled like in a futile prayer just above his mouth

"Yeah, the prognosis is really grim, Sam. This is very sad. Starsky means more than any patient to me. I also suggest that you try to handle this with Hutchinson in the most sensible way possible. I leave it to your best judgment." were Goodman's final words.

Sam nodded sadly. He felt sorrowful too. Bob and he knew very well what was going on.

"Okay! I'm gonna try to manage this with Hutch. Then I'm gonna go and see Starsky. Thanks, Bob."

Goodman nodded to Sam and got back to work, the young doctor went straight to where the blond-haired man was still sitting in the waiting room.

"Everything will be all right, Hutch, we have to wait. There's a bug around Metro, you know? They're performing some lab tests to discard any other problems and then we will know."

"A bug?" Hutch asked concernedly.

"Yeah! You know these two? Patterson and Gable? From R&I? Patterson was hospitalized, still is. Looks like it's a terrible bug!" The doctor tried to smile, but Hutch's eyes were still fixed on his face, suspicious and wandering, and Sam noticed.

He realized that he should try to be even more convincing if he wanted to help the taller man the bad taste in the mouth.

"Listen, Hutch, it'll be more than a few hours until they finish with the lab tests and so... Maybe they decide to admit Starsky, and I assume that you'll be the one who stay with him here all night, won't be?"

Hutch frowned and nodded, listening intently to Sam's words.

"So why don't you go to your place, take a bath, change your clothes and go to Starsky's too and close the blinds and his windows? I'm sure he left them opened. He will need you, buddy; but not now, later..."

"But is he okay now?"

"Hey, Hutch. He is! He's resting now, but nothing's wrong."

The troubled man stared at the doctor thinking. It wouldn't be possible that Sam would be lying to him, and maybe it would be better to go and close his and Starsky's windows. He would stay at the Hospital for the night with his friend, of course.

"Is he sleeping?"

"Well, they have him sedated to perform the lab tests and scans... Come on, Hutch! You'll be two hours gone and when you arrive here he won't be ready yet. Besides, I'll stay. I'm gonna stay here. Go. Go." Sam invited him with his head to go.

"Okay, I'll take a shower and go to Starsky's, close the windows, get him some clothes and check everything else and then I'll be back."

Sam winked at Hutch and the blond jumped and started running like a kid.

**ACT 15 –WHAT DOCTORS SAY-**

"Dr. What?" Starsky said indignantly; he couldn't understand what Sam was saying about this new doctor. "I don't wanna meet another doctor; I know all the doctors I need. I just wanna get outta here and go and search for Parry!" He was out of control.

"Murray," Sam murmured.

"Nope, I said Parry! Don't give a damn about this… What? Murray?" he shrugged.

"Yes, Murray. Murray is the doctor's name, Starsky." Sam said calmly.

"I don't give a damn. Oh, come on! I just wanna get outta this bed. I feel like an invalid here. I have enough of this _bedridden thing_; I don't wanna be hooked again to anything else, never… I -" he started to get increasingly agitated and coughed.

"Calm down, Starsky, the doctor will be here in about..." he looked at his wrist watch "ten minutes," Ressler added soothingly, checking the brunet's IV's port.

"Who? What for?" Starsky accepted in disbelief and with resignation.

"What for?" Sam was feeling sick of the conversation and Starsky's denial, "just to check on you, Starsky. What else would he come here for?"

"I don't know what for, and I don't know him either, for that matter," the Brunet said nonchalantly.

"No, you don't know him, so what? You don't really have to know every physician that works at Memorial, do you, buddy boy?" The tone Sam used was the one reserved to talk to a child and to make him understand.

"Well, I've known more than my share of them here, and I've never heard of this '_Murray'_ before. And, believe me, that is weird, man, since I'm very familiar with the goddamn staff at this hospital, unfortunately."

He made a face; he was bored of doctors, frankly

"Well, you didn't know me either until I came to the Station past year." Sam raised his eyebrows trying to make him understand. He kept on saying "And I was working here too at the time you were hospitalized because of Gunther."

Sam opened his eyes and arms and tried to talk some sense into his stubborn friend.

"So what? Of course, I didn't meet you before, yeah! But you're a psychiatrist! And I wasn't carried here because of my state of mind exactly, at least not at the time they brought me in. Maybe I should have met you at the time they discharged me, anyway. Being here just drove me nuts." He stressed every single word with all the disgusting tone he could muster.

Sam didn't add anything more; he didn't want Starsky to make any more questions, or find out who Dr. Murray was… but he didn't succeed since the brunet man was ablaze, anxious and nervy as he had rarely seen him before in his life.

Starsky was impatient. He kept on asking questions, and Ressler wondered if that attitude responded to the fact that maybe he was just scared.

"So I guess that this doctor's a new one, isn't he?" he continued...

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, we can say that yes. He's new for you. He's never treated you before."

The doctor approached Starsky's bedside. The detective was trying to get up and sit on the bed, and he did it with some difficulty since he was hooked to the vial, so Sam helped him and decided to accommodate the cushions behind him.

He raised the headboard to give Starsky more comfort "Let me help you, Dave… Is it okay, now?"

"Yeah… Thanks." Starsky looked like a boy in a middle of a tantrum. He had the blessed ability to become a little kid and vent. "And he is?" he asked while raised his eyebrows and made a pause and Sam mirrored his gesture, raising his eyebrows too.

The doctor waited for him to end the question.

Sam was worried.

He didn't want to say to Starsky anything else; he didn't mean to give him any specification about Murray, but then Starsky frowned and suddenly changed the subject and asked him.

"By the way, what time is it? And where's Hutch? Something happened to him? It's late!"

"Oh," Sam said relieved, "I've sent him packing!" He said pompously, and they both laughed. "He was so worried sick! You know how he gets! I told him that you were a little sedated, that you will be resting the whole day and that you _NEEDED_ your rest, so he went home to close his blinds and yours too… He should be here in an hour I guess. I asked him to stay for the night with you. That was enough for me to get rid of him."

"You handled him that easily? And he didn't put a fight? Wow, man!" Starsky was amazed, and Sam got calmed.

"I did!" the doc said proudly. "And I even reminded him that if he wanted to be useful in your recovery, he should get his own rest too. So I've sent him home, forced him to take a shower, change his clothes, eat something decent and then return." Sam winked.

"Return? Where?" Starsky frowned.

"Where? Here, where else?"

"What for?" he said surprised.

"What for? Starsky this conversation is unreal, very fantastic! I mean I had more interesting talks with an ameba, buddy!" the doctor said flabbergasted.

"Well, that was kinda déjà vu." Starsky smiled at the memory, that time long ago after he shot that girl and made her blind when he was so distraught, and Hutch couldn't reach him in any way. "I'm telling you I ain't gonna stay here anymore because _I am going home _in case you hadn't noticed, okay? The only unreal thing, Sam, is to assume that Hutch will come back here, to this beautiful Hospital to stay with me for the night _or_ for something else any different. I won't stay here. So he will come just to pick me up and take me back home, yeah... aside from the fact that he could get me to the Precinct too, to keep working. THAT would be the fantastic and unreal thing that I stay here any longer!"

Sam said nothing. He wasn't going to discuss anything else with Starsky.

"So maybe," the dark-haired man continued, "it would be better for you if you feel like an octopus instead of an ameba because you will need every single each of your eight tentacles, buddy if you wanna prevent my escape!" Starsky laughed amusingly, "I'll make you blush with my Houdini's skills."

The dark-haired man opened his eyes and made a funny face, but he could see that he was getting nowhere to convince the doctor. So he bit his lower lip and tried another strategy.

He drew his more usual method of seduction. Starsky's never-failing charm: the boyishly helpless style.

"Hey, I'm feeling okay, Sam. I don't find any reason to stay here and neither for Hutch to '_return,'_" he made the imaginary quotes with his left hand, stressing the word 'return,' mockingly. "I can indeed go home by myself, I mean," he finished.

"No, Starsky, you have to stay, and you'll stay. Doctor's orders. You ain't going anywhere! You won't!"

"But I'm feeling splendid! I'm telling you; I'm feeling pretty good… Would you please listen to me? You're my friend or what? Don't play me the doctor here, I'm okay! I don't hurt; I'm breathing easier. Tomorrow they tell me what's going on, and that would be all! I promise I'll be here to find out what's happening, but it'll be tomorrow. Today, I just wanna go home now. Sam, please?" Sam looked at him, Starsky's face was trapped in a childlike gesture like in a trick or treat's instant he could tell.

"They already know what's going on, buddy." Sam couldn't prevent to release the statement, but he stopped cold in his words.

This wouldn't be the best way to tell Starsky what was happening, and Starsky frowned. Sam realized anyway that his friend felt uncomfortable, so he didn't push him any further, reassuming the preaching mode. "You are not going anywhere! End of the discussion." Sam continued patronizingly, "You'll stay!" he said firmly and tried to reasoning, finally.

That scared the hell out of the brunet. And stubborn as he was, he insisted.

"But I'm telling you I'm all right, Sam! I'm feeling okay!"

"I have no doubts about it! About how are you feeling right now, pal, but that doesn't change the fact that _YOU_ -_dot- HAVE -dot- TO STAY -dot- HERE_… Period" Sam said with full authority and almost irritated, he didn't want to keep talking to him, and he knew that Starsky's insistence sometimes was legendary. He wanted the conversation to be finished; he needed it to be finished. He didn't mean to deliver any news to him.

He couldn't just do it.

"Meaning?" the brunet asked.

"Oh, man you're insistent, Starsky! You can be as demanding and headstrong as a one-year-old boy." Sam shouted and shook his head; he opened his hands.

Starsky's impassive eyes were more than one hundred questions. He wouldn't give up, he could be intractable sometimes, so Sam said though not everything, part of what was actually happening.

Bluntly.

"Okay! I give up. You got it, man! Do you wanna know why?" The doctor said defeated, "It means that you're all pumped and full of drugs right now, Starsky, and that's the reason you're feeling this good. Otherwise, you wouldn't."

He had said it, loud.

But seeing Starsky's reaction to his words he regretted it immediately.

Sam's outburst had left him feeling contrite, instantly. The doctor felt sorry for his own words, but it was far too late. Starsky looked discouraged, resigned, depressed and with the weird feeling that he had lost his first battle. Sam realized and he felt remorseful.

The sick man gave a sad glance at the bottle of the IV attached to his right arm. He knew far too well the difference between being hooked almost in life support or not being, so he nodded and continued…

"So he is? You were saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything…" Sam wished he could get out of the room and disappear. He didn't want to have to face the moment; he didn't mean to be at that place.

"The doctor, this Murray, he is…?"

Someone knocked on the door.

"David, Sam?"

Dr. Robert Goodman entered the hospital room with a tall, slender man in his fifties, wearing green scrubs.

"Hi, Bob!" Starsky said trying to compose himself at the familiar and reassuring face of Goodman.

"David, this is Dr. John Murray. John, this is my patient and most especially, my dear friend, David Starsky."

The man held Starsky's right hand that was leaning over the bed hooked to the intravenous, noticing he couldn't move it.

Starsky bowed his head.

"Hi, David, how are you feeling?" John Murray cooed.

Starsky didn't answer. He wondered if this man could be a surgeon or what. Judging by his green scrubs he probably was... but, something else was nagging him. He had never seen this man before; he was curious and scared.

So just before he decided to answer, he asked him, shooting first.

"And who's asking? I mean, I know your name's Murray but I don't know which your specialty is. So you are?"

There was a long pause; the doctors looked at themselves.

Sam, bowed his head and Bob Goodman walked toward the window and turned around, looking at Starsky with concern.

The seconds were seemingly eternal, Starsky insisted, "Is something wrong?"

"I'm an oncologist, David," Murray said all of a sudden.

Starsky's expression was heartbreaking.

He opened his mouth in horror; a chilled whimper escaped from him as he had been stabbed, and then he fell silent, ostensibly swallowing the bitter news.

He slowly looked down and lowered his face; staring away.

He lost his view in one spot somewhere in the checkered bedroom's floor.

Ressler approached him, reassured him and touched his left shoulder with his hand. Starsky felt cold and stiff, and when he felt his friend's touch and warmth, after a moment he looked up at him with eyes misted with the tears.

"Sam," he shook his head. "Hutch mustn't know, yet. I can't"… were his only words.

Sam nodded in sympathy and held a sob.

It broke everybody's hearts.

Starsky's first thought was that of his friend.

*********************S&H***********************

When Hutch arrived more than one hour later at Starsky's Hospital room, at 7.30 PM he never imagined what had happened there.

The atmosphere was relaxed; Starsky was watching television and eating a generous portion of grilled chicken with mashed potatoes, and the blonde-haired man, seeing Starsky was doing that good, really believed in Sam's words.

The doc had told him and everybody else, that the reason his partner would remain hospitalized was due to the severe cough outbreak that had been chasing him for over a week. So hard, it had almost knocked him out earlier.

Sam, had also convinced him that the move, was purely prophylactic, to recover Starsky and persuade him not to keep on doing the damn job. He also said, that concerning Starsky's previous health issues it would be better if they kept him properly hydrated with intravenous medication to prevent another fit of coughing.

Especially since the whole Precinct, beginning with Patterson and Gable's hospitalization had been threatened by the strep throat those past weeks.

And since it seemed to be the most sensible thing to do, Hutch felt relieved and even happy to have his dear friend there.

He suspected nothing so far.

He rather liked Starsky being 'kidnaped' by the doctors in Memorial than at Parry's mercy in the streets, who was still lurking out there...

So the two buddies spent the night smoothly, talking nonsense until Starsky fell asleep.

Hutch was allowed to stay by his side, the way he had always been permitted to remain at his partner's room when the shorter man was injured or sick in the past.

Hence, Hutch didn't suspect anything.

The next morning, just when Starsky was carried to the fifth floor to perform another exam, the blond-haired man left Memorial and went straight to the Station to finish the paperwork related to Parry.

He ran off with the promise that he'd be coming back in the afternoon just to take his buddy home…

*********************S&H***********************

"Lung Cancer? You mean I'm gonna die?"

There was a long silence, the doctors inflated their lungs and made sad faces. They couldn't speak, just couldn't tell him, so Starsky realized that he had to be the strong one, again.

"Okay. I know." He smiled "I'll show you how it works..." the brunet sighed and paraphrased the doctors, "Yes, Dave. You're gonna die; people usually die of lung cancer." He smiled trying to ease the tension.

The doctors nodded.

"You can be such a sport, David…" Goodman said, remembering those other times when he had already been the bearer of bad news to this man "You always make things easier," the red-headed doctor was doubled in pain.

"How long do I have?" Starsky asked again calmly, giving strength to the physicians instead of backward.

For him, the news had finally sunk, and he had already decided that he would face it as he had always done.

David Starsky was well known in Memorial. Dr. Goodman had already told John Murray about the extraordinary strength that the man had, but yet, witnessing such display of bravery had knocked the seasoned oncologist to his core.

He decided he would help this man to overcome his destiny.

"We don't know yet in which stage you are in, Mr. Starsky, so we can't answer that question right now either. Neither of us. The Pet Ct Scan and the Pleural Tap showed areas of active cancer that it has spread to the lymph glands in your chest. So that's the reason we're gonna perform a biopsy right now, to determine the type of cancer, the stage you're in, the outlook and the following procedures. Since it has reached your lymphatic system, we have to rule out the possibility that it has been already metastasized, which is a very realistic possibility, certainly one that I have to warn you about."

Dr. Murray said as clear as he could.

"Wait! You mean you're gonna operate me, now?" Starsky asked, a little frightened.

"Yes, but you don't have to be scared, David," the doctor rubbed his shoulder with compassion. "We'll take a small sample. You'll be mildly sedated, and then we'll numb your skin in the spot where we're gonna make the incision. It won't hurt, and only a little scar will remain if that's what you're afraid of." he said softly.

Starsky chuckled.

"I'm not worried about scars, Doc. I know everything about them" he finished bitterly.

The doctor nodded feeling incredibly silly, "Yes, I guess so… I forgot, I'm sorry."

Starsky shook his head and slurred, "'S okay. No worries." and suddenly felt like the whole weight of the world was down to his shoulders, "_Why, why me? Why this has to happen to me, again…" _he thought and then sighed, and the anguish showed on his face. Knowing the way he did know Starsky, Goodman was well aware that the cop had become sullen and despondent, so he asked him.

"What's going on David? Are you all right?"

Starsky cast sheep's eyes to the physician; the brunet man felt that he had reached the end of his endurance, and he was loosening. "Bob, why? Why me, again? How come?"

The doctor sighed; he felt responsible for this man in a sort of way. "Well, there's no way of knowing, David. But being a nonsmoker like you are and having no history of lung cancer in your family according to your medical records the best guess is that your lung tissue was severely damaged when you suffered the gunshot attack back in 1979."

"Yes. We can't actually determine it now, but that's what could have happened more likely. The damage has been pretty extensive, Sergeant. Unfortunately". Murray added.

Bob Goodman felt that he was the one who had to explain Starsky what could have happened back then.

The words massive damage echoed in his head.

He remembered vividly those first moments after the paramedics had carried Starsky after the shooting, and he had received his ravaged body in surgery.

The young man was dying.

He thought, at the time, that the cop had only minutes left in him, but he helped him get back. He had put him together, and he came back. Incredibly.

Starsky had been his patient, his miracle patient, and he still felt that the brunet was his responsibility. Goodman needed to explain him the inexplicable, so he kept on doing it…

"You took three high caliber bullets to the chest, David. Your survival was a miracle in itself, son… But it looks like your lungs never recovered properly. I mean your lung tissue's very ill, fragile. Besides the extent of the effort you put on it because of the work over the years as a cop and the yet so damaged organ, have worsened the whole scenario. The summing of those risk factors has been devastating. A fertile ground for yet a new misfortune to takes residence there."

Goodman's voiced cracked in sorrow and Starsky comforted him, "It's okay, Bob" he smiled "'S not your fault."

Goodman nodded, and Murray finished saying "That's right, Sergeant. Your spirogram has determined that you have less than 20% total lung capacity, you understand? That's a pretty bad outcome, Detective."

Starsky nodded, sighed and made a face, "Yeah. It's been a long time I didn't hear that word… Oh! 'spirogram,'" he reckoned and rolled his eyes. "I loathe that hateful device; it hurt so much that damned spirometer," he quoted and closed his eyes trying to erase the memory. He filled his lungs and grimaced, "I remember it clearly" he ended sadly.

Starsky was scared; suddenly he felt that he wanted to give up even before having started.

"I know the discomfort all these procedures can provoke, David. But they let us assess cancer, its extent and spread, and, above all, its entire prognosis. So we have to do them. There's no way out." Starsky nodded, and Goodman felt overwhelmed. Murray kept talking, "Once we've got all these tests performed, we're gonna take the samples to Duarte's City of Hope, which is a leading research and treatment center for cancer, here near Bay City in Los Angeles. Dr. Caroline Novak and me, are going to be your team. So you don't have to worry and, above all, you don't get stress. Next week we're gonna have a complete picture, okay?" those were his last words.

"I'm not stressed," Starsky whispered, "I'm just tired" he smiled softly… "I am tired, doctor."

"Excuse me." A young woman knocked on the door and entered the room. She was wearing white scrubs, and her auburn hair was tied in a pigtail.

"Caroline, Come here, doctor. I want you to meet my dear friend, David Starsky," said Bob Goodman.

The young and smiley lady doctor got near the bed to say hello to the man who was bedridden for some time now. "Hello, David" she offered her hand to him, and he reciprocated, "Nice to meet you," she said.

She felt surprised about how handsome the young patient was.

"Hello, Doctor… uh..." he hesitated, he couldn't remember her name.

"Novak, I'm Caroline Novak," She smiled "and I'm here just to help you, David, to help you starting feeling better, okay?" She said reassuringly.

He took a deep breath, "I hope so. I would really appreciate that Miss, Novak?" he said charmingly, and she nodded.

"You can count on that!" She smiled again, tenderly and for the first time the brunet man reciprocated, and he gave her the very first of his stunning smiles.

She smiled mesmerized and waited for a second to regain her concentration and shook her head, "_This man, Oh My God! how handsome he is!"_ She thought.

"Like I said, David, we have a long way to go, so why don't you let yourself be carried away by me, from now on?" She smiled at his surprised smile "To Surgery I mean. Maybe?"

"Oh!" he smiled naughtily first and then asked curious and worried... "You're gonna take the sample? The biopsy? I mean you're gonna operate me? You?" He raised his eyebrows wondering

"Mhm… yes," she said.

"Oh…" he looked at Bob Goodman.

He was nervous; his doctor knew him very well; he knew how ashamed Starsky felt about his scars, about his chest's image. Since the shooting, he hadn't been involved in any serious relationship with a woman because of it, because of his body image.

Some parts of the ex-self-confident man had been shattered after the assassination attempt, small parts.

His chest was one of them.

In... And out.

That issue had been a milestone in his mental recovery he still couldn't get over with undoubtedly.

"What's wrong, David?" Goodman asked him.

Starsky stayed silent, evaluating his options. "_What's to say without sounding ridiculous or trivial?"_ he thought. He shook his head.

"Do you feel uncomfortable because I'm a woman?" Caroline Novak hurried to ask. And he opened his eyes, speechless.

She was an excellent doctor though she knew that sometimes the fact that she was a woman was a barrier to some people; to men, most precisely. She could be intimidating, or they could think that she wasn't up to the medical challenges.

Women struggled with those limitations since forever.

"I can take a step aside if you feel that way. I understand that there are people who don't trust in women when it comes to medicine. Believe me, David, if it worries you, it's okay. My accomplishments are my own, detective." She smiled when he frowned. "I mean, I don't need to make anyone feel uncomfortable to prove myself who I am or what I am capable of doing. I know what I can achieve and I can step aside from your treatment if that's what you want." She cut him short, and every one of the men who were present in the room stayed stunned at her reaction.

"_She is some woman,"_ they all thought.

She had been straight and blunted, but kind and sincere and trustworthy, too.

Undoubtedly she stood tall and proud and carried herself with confidence through her motions and Starsky liked it. Somehow, she reminded of him.

"_This lady," _Starsky thought, "Well, there isn't any need to be a man to be a tough person, is there?" Starsky said and smiled. They all laughed at his remark. She stayed looking at him, defiantly and he didn't take his eyes off of hers either, but somehow, he realized that she started feeling a little bit upset by his look; in fact he realized that the moment was a little awkward for her, nothing of disgust, not at all, but still uncomfortable.

And her reaction appealed him even more.

By all means, he realized that she even loosely held his challenge, though she was nervous.

He was very intuitive.

He liked her.

Starsky smiled again, even more purposefully, putting an end to their secret game and after a few minutes in silence he started feeling the intense need to match the tremendous display of honesty that the lady doctor had just starred, so he decided to keep up her challenge and clarified himself. After all, only a small part of the dominant, sanguine, even cocky man that David Michael Starsky had been once had been lost in oblivion.

"That's not the problem, lady. You are not the problem. I am. I am the problem. Just like you, I don't have the need to feign confidence so I can tell you the truth."

They all stayed in silence to his words.

"And tell me, David, what's your truth?" Novak asked.

He still had his eyes on the woman, he thought he owed her an explanation, so he sighed and said. "My truth and the truth is that after some nasty experience of which I've unfortunately been a part of, I put way too much significance to the thoughts and opinions of other people. Women, most precisely. But you're right. There's no need to depend on someone else's conclusions about ourselves, to know who we are and what we can achieve, isn't there? So, okay. It's all right."

She smiled. She was not so sure about what he was talking about, but she liked him. "_This man," _she thought, "_he is challenging."_ "Okay, Mr. Starsky, I'm glad you will take the risk and take action," she said and winked at him, and they all smiled. "Maybe, before we start you can share with me what's really bothering you," she nodded "but first things first. I must warn you that you shouldn't be stressed or worried, Sergeant. The procedure usually takes 30 to 60 minutes, and in a few days will have the Laboratory analysis. I'll take care, of everything, okay? If that is what bothers you."

"Thanks, Caroline, that's not what troubles me, but I like to hear that. Anyway, I need to clarify that I have no doubts about your medical skills. My problem is a little bit more complicated." He shrugged.

She nodded. "Okay. And since I'm gonna be your physician, and we still have more than half hour to go and get into the OR, I think that there's no better moment for us than this. I mean, why don't you trust me which those problems are? Of course, if you feel like doing it. I mean, no stress or unnecessary concerns, remember?" He nodded obediently at her words. "Okay," she said and collected her thoughts. "So doctors, see that door over there?" she pointed to the room's door "That's the exit, sirs. I have to talk with my patient here. We have a few things to sort out before we start", she smiled.

He shook his head, "_this woman is something else,"_ Starsky thought, and he began talking to her about his feelings, his fears… and his scars.

Physical and mental scars.

Life was challenging him again, and he couldn't understand why.

She sat at his bedside and listened to him intently, from Prudholm, Jennings and Marcus to Gunther, everything. Somehow he needed to explain the woman the reason he was scared and sad, too. He felt that she was strong enough to support him, and he needed someone to count with, besides Hutch.

Without Hutch, even better.

He couldn't bother him this time, not anymore.

His cancer would destroy his partner.

*********************S&H***********************

"Thanks David for trusting me these things, this soon," Caroline was very moved by Starsky's words.

"It's okay. I don't know, but I needed to do it. I guess that I'm on my own, that I'm alone in this one, doctor. And I needed to talk to someone that I knew I'm not gonna hurt." He said humbly.

"You won't hurt your friend by telling him that you're scared and sad, David. Or sick. Or that you need him." She said, encouraging him to talk to everyone who loved him.

"You don't know Hutch. He would be devastated. I can't afford it."

"It'll happen when the time's right, David. You don't worry by now about it. I can understand the first shock this news could provoke, especially, having experienced everything that has happened in your lives before, so this is an expected reaction. I know that sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger".

"Yes, like I said… It's easier," he said.

"Anyway, one thing you oughtta know is that it's imperative that you can do it. I mean talk. Talk to whoever you want to. I appreciate that you feel free to do it with me, since if you're sick and you wanna get better, it's necessary to feel comfortable with your physician. You must know that above all, as hard as it could be, you must get out of your comfort zone. You must talk about everything that bothers you, scares you. That's the only way to get better since the comfort zone is not the place to stay."

"Yeah, this has not been easy to me. You must know."

"Yes, I understand, David. This is not easy. And it won't be any easier either. But listen to me, if you wanna get a significant change in your life, like heal yourself or get into remission and rid of your cancer, you must change those self-limiting beliefs. You have to throw them out of your mind, throw away those paralyzing thoughts that have kept you from having what you've wanted to enjoy in the past. You must get rid of your scars, David that is what your cancer is. Think about the sickness as if it was a scar. You can live with your scars; still, you are going to live with cancer. Live, you hear me? There's no other way to survive than talk about them. Get them out of your system. Befriend your scars. They're the traces of the life of a brave man, nothing more than that. Nothing to be ashamed of." she smiled sweetly.

Starsky started sobbing; he felt hopeless.

"Hey," she said.

"I'm sorry, but I'm scared. What will happen if everything's wrong and there are no chances, and…"

"Stop, David. Don't hurt yourself."

"I can't. I can't stop thinking. I don't wanna die. What's gonna happen if it goes wrong?"

"In a treatment like this, you don't have to be worried about failure or rejection since failure is only an opportunity to change and rejection an opportunity to learn. And those are the scars that I'm talking about. Your new chance. I mean if things don't work out, you just have to figure out why, make some changes and then try again and again. That is what the treatment is about. From today, since day one, and until the complete recovery."

"And what if it doesn't happen? What if there's no recovery?"

"At least you have tried and lived. Every single minute, every little scar. Even new scars. We've got our minutes counted. All of us, David, the big deal's how we live them."

Starsky felt light. She made him feel light.

"Thank you, Caroline," he said, "You gave me hope."

"I'm glad to hear. I wish I could give you answers, but for that, you must trust me," she said, and he felt that he would.

After half hour, and when everything was settled, he let she carry him up to the Operating Room

The procedure turned out to be short and painless.

After an hour, he was back in his room. He would stay hospitalized for more than six hours until 5 p.m. since the only risk the procedure could cause, according to Starsky's stats, was an excessive bleeding. So he would be monitored for a few hours before being discharged and until Hutch gets back to Memorial to take him home.

*********************S&H***********************

"I don't like the way this looks, John," she sighed, "I mean David's tissue, the small sample I took…" She shook her head and scratched her nape like tired.

The lady doctor made a gesture of concern. Doctors knew, usually, even before they got the lab's results what was the extent to which the disease was manifesting only at visual contact to the tissue sample.

And Caroline knew better that Starsky's prognosis was not good.

"Tell me about him, John."

They were in Murray's car; he was taking her home; her sight lost on the road to Topanga.

"Well, I remember the gossip about him when he was hospitalized; that he was some miracle. The staff was all excited. It was a commotion; the attempted murder in the Hospital again. It was hard to take. He was a celebrity." He shook his head, remembering how visibly astonished Goodman was back then while he was treating Starsky about the cop's incredible recovery. "You were at Stanford at the time. You were making your Phd., I guess."

"So, it has been four years ago?"

"Yes, in 1979. You remember this tycoon, Gunther? Well, Starsky and his partner were the ones who took him down. But first, the man almost killed Starsky".

"No kidding? You mean he is…? Wow, he's one of the Supercops!" Caroline was shocked by the news; she remembered the heinous attack, vividly.

Murray nodded. "Yes. He was a legend here in Memorial. I wish I couldn't have to have known him anyway, not under these circumstances at all. The poor man has been through hell, which is what Goodman told me." John Murray grimaced.

"Yes, I know. He's already told me, too" She shook her head. "Such a young man… Oh yeah, I remember the great scandal. The assassination attempt even made it through the national networks, I was in San Francisco at the time, and it was... wow, I don't believe that it's him! He told me about the shooting, I saw his scars," She sighed, "but I didn't know it was him. You mean Starsky was the Officer injured at the Police Station's parking lot?" she asked again still incredulous.

"Yes. He is the man".

"Oh, my God! I remember. I remember the shock it made. At Police Headquarters of all places! No one could believe such boldness!" She shook her head, amazed.

She lost her thoughts in her memories, but especially in this present. She couldn't take the police officer out of her mind, and John Murray realized the sudden interest that the girl had in this particular patient.

"Caroline? I know you very well. How come you are this interested in this story?"

"Well, the patient's background's critical to approach the treatment, John, and you know it!" She tried to explain her curiosity.

"So this is strictly professional?"

"Absolutely! John! You're terrible!" And she smiled.

"Looks to me? Or so you are," The senior scientist smiled. "Lady, take care of yourself" he advised to the beautiful lady doctor and kissed her on her cheek before she got off the car.

He winked at her, and she got lost in her house in Agoura.

"_David Starsky, I wish I can help you."_

The memory of the man put a smile on her beautiful face and with that thought she got to sleep.

**ACT 16 –THE STRUGGLE-**

It had been one week since they had told him that he had cancer. And today he had an appointment in City of Hope with Dr. Murray and Dr. Novak.

"_How are you doing? You want me to go to your place and pick you up tomorrow?" _Sam had called him the night before and had asked him softly.

"_You coming along with me? Oh, thank you," _Starsky sighed with relief; he felt very grateful, he didn't feel like going alone to face his destiny. "_but I feel like driving, Sam. I mean until I can do it…" _he shrugged, "_Besides, you're on my way. I uh, I'm gonna pick you up at – uh, lemme see, 7.30? I guess it'll take 40 minutes to Pioneer Park, 101 and then left to San Bernardino's freeway, isn't it?"_

"_Yeah, that's the road. Seems to me? Or you did your homework?" _Sam had smiled and had shaken his head "_OK. I'll wait for you tomorrow." _And they hung up.

The driving was peaceful and comfortable.

In whichever circumstances he was in, Starsky always seemed to enjoy driving his car. The windows were down and the gentle morning breeze was playing with them, untangling their hairs. The music was accompanying the show. The shape of Starsky's masculine profile built by the sun, and his lines sketched in the yellow reflection of the window seemed to shine through his sunglasses. Ressler was excited by the show while the dark-haired man sang one song aloud.

"_I'll be watching you_

_(Every breath you take, every move you make)_

_(Every bond you break, every step you take)_

_I'll be watching you_

_(Every single day, every word you say)_

_(Every game you play, every night you stay)_

_I'll be…"_

The brunet suddenly stopped.

"Isn't it ironic?" he laughed.

"What?" Sam asked distractedly.

"This." he pointed to the radio.

"What?" Ressler still didn't get it.

Starsky smiled again, purposefully.

"Oh, buddy. I'm dying of lung cancer and this year's hit is 'Every breath you take'!. Nothing more and nothing less, and it is sung by The Police." He laughed in full force, and he turned his face off from the road ahead just to look at his friend.

"Starsky! Who says that you're dying?" Sam didn't want to hear him saying that!

"Oh, come on, I was just joking, Sam"... "_but was he?"_ Ressler thought.

It was a bright sunny day.

Tuesday, the 21st June, the beginning of one new summer; little they knew how cloudy it would end up.

*********************S&H***********************

They said today that there wouldn't be a surgery.

It was Small Cell Lung Cancer, in stage 4, the worst.

His right lung and lymph nodes were compromised.

So they guessed that the whole thing would reduce to a fight to giving him just some more time.

Time. Just more time.

Not life, not that kind of time.

It had spread too much.

They said that, unfortunately, its remission was hardly possible.

When Starsky went to the restroom, devastated by the news, Sam asked the oncologists how much time he might have.

They said that due to the stage he was in, maybe ten even twelve months tops; that it depended on the way the body would respond to chemotherapy, but Murray even added that, in fact, it really depended on the will of the boss up there.

God's strange moves.

Sam was worried, he didn't know how to handle everything that was going on, so he asked Murray and Caroline about what to expect; the kind of life Starsky could be start to living.

"Sam, there's no way of knowing how is he going to react to the treatments..." Caroline said, "But we're gonna try to give him the best to make him feel comfortable. There are no guarantees, but we are not going to give up hope."

"Yes," Ressler said dejectedly, "He's had a good week, with the medication you've prescribed him. I mean, it's been easier for him to breathe, and he hasn't had any blackouts!" He said hopefully. "Though I felt very scared the other night when I thought that he might have a heart attack just in front of me because of a hard fit of coughing he suffered. I want to avoid that. It's too dangerous."

"That's part of the sickness. Lung cancer's just like that, Sam. What happened that you are so frightened?" Caroline asked concerned.

"I thought he would die, right in front of me. We were together, at his place, when suddenly he started coughing, and he just couldn't stop. He was very scared, and so was I. The worst of all is that it didn't matter that I'm a doctor. I mean Cancer's reality has nothing to do with medicine or anything I had ever known or studied before… I felt very useless!" Sam said without any impairment.

"Yes, that's cancer, Ressler. A different new reality that no one's prepared to face! A Doctor or not." Murray added, "It's been thirty years I deal with this, and I still can't manage it sometimes."

"Yeah, I realized. It's very difficult to help; let alone now, that he'll know how little time left is." Sam shook his head, overwhelmed by the circumstances, "The only way out I see is if maybe we trust to a spiritual vision to help him. Starsky told me that that night, later, after I had left his place, he started praying. I wouldn't have gone, but he insisted me to leaving him alone!"

"And what did he pray?" she asked curiously.

"Mi Shebeirach and Barukh She'Amar. He's Jewish," he looked at Caroline, who was also Jewish and shrugged. "You know what it means, Caroline; he told me that it had been a lifetime since he hadn't prayed. Me either, I thought."

Caroline agreed, whatever resources people find to feel better were valid and sometimes religion was an excellent getaway. However, she really thought that love was the only solution, the only answer, whatever form it comes.

"Well, maybe religion might be a response, and you can find some peace in it. There's no recipe for the way you can cope with the disease. Unfortunately, It's one's personal path, and you have to walk through it". She had a calm quality and a very peaceful demeanor that was soothing. "You don't have to be worried Sam. David is not alone…" the lady finished saying.

"Yes he is, and that is exactly what really concerns me." She frowned and then Ressler continued. "Not emotionally, I mean, but I don't know if he'll be able to stay alone at his home any longer, not after that day. I'm apprehensive since it happened, I think that it's just too dangerous. He can get hurt, hit his head or something. I supposed that I have to ask you what to do and help him."

It was very hard to clear one's mind and think straight at times like these.

From the emotional impairment to the physical incapability of the sick person, many situations should be covered, provided for. It was way too difficult.

Cancer not only was killing Starsky, but also it was destroying everyone.

"Stick to the positive things, Sam, there's no way out but staying positive," Caroline said and patted him on his shoulder.

"Yeah… On the bright side," Sam continued, "Starsky felt relief that he's been able to handle everything with Hutch smoothly, until the moment. That his ploy's been so good that his partner doesn't suspect anything, so far."

"Is it that important to him? I mean he talked about that to me before the biopsy…" She shook her head, "His relationship with his partner is vital. We have to be very careful about his feelings to build his strength."

"Yes, they are like two halves of one whole. Hutch is the most important person in Starsky's world and conversely. The situation's very delicate from the emotional point of view" the shrink added.

They stayed in silence.

"And what are we gonna do? I don't wanna be carried away by my patients' wishes." Caroline asked concernedly.

"Emotionally?"

"Yes. We tend to accept whatever the patient decides to lay as a strategy for his treatment, but maybe this time we should intervene in a different way" she wondered.

"The problem's that Starsky believes, he's convinced that Hutch is not prepared to such information. Psychologically, I think Dave thinks that if he tells Hutch the truth he's gonna destroy him and as a result of it, he would get destroyed himself. He protects his partner with his silence, and himself too."

Caroline nodded.

Starsky had told his partner that he was dating someone, that he had met a girl named Caroline. Hutch seemed to be euphoric about it; the blond had never seen his partner with such a significant commitment to a new relationship since Gunther. _"Hey, I wanna meet her. She has bewitched you, partner. I'm happy for you"_ were Hutch's words when the brunet had told him.

Starsky thought it would be a good idea to use Dr. Novak's given name since he would be very acquaintance with her.

Sam felt that there was something else about it, he knew the brunet that much and Caroline was exquisite. He was convinced that the intense "ladies' man" who lived in him couldn't help but try to catch that prey, even ill if any, but then… that was Starsky, for Christ's sake.

And thank God.

He might be sick, but he would not change, ever.

The most important thing was that Hutch believed in him, and it had seemed to be enough for the moment. Especially since the tension about Madoc's frustrated arrest was decreasing and the normalcy was starting to be restored. However, the doctor was worried that it was not going to last much; with chemotherapy at his doorstep, Sam was wondering how long Starsky could keep on hiding the drama to Hutch.

When Starsky came back into the Office, he didn't start the subject.

The whole week had passed without any problem so far so he would let him make his own way. He knew how it worried the brunet that Hutch might find out.

And the worry was a state of mind he couldn't indulge himself or let his friend be in.

On the way back home from Hope, Sam could tell that there were lots of clouds in the sky. It had been a sunny day until a few hours ago; it had been. And now Starsky had neither the strength nor the will to drive; he gave Sam the steering wheel.

The doctor took it.

Sam was feeling a little bit downed. Also, congested. Maybe he was coming down with something, too. The doctor didn't know if it was because of the unshed tears or the flu outbreak that was spreading, but he felt anguished and sad. Sam just wanted to cuddle up in his bed and stay that way. He figured out that tucked in bed was the only way he could possibly get rid of the hard oppression that was ripping his chest in two. However, he knew he couldn't let his friend down, that he had to be strong, for Starsky.

And he kept driving.

They didn't talk; the dark-haired man just stared through the window.

And Sam kept driving.

The next appointment was going to be the next day, at Memorial, after working hours.

The medical board in charge of his case would tell him the pros and cons, the possible side-effects of chemo and more details about the possible treatments and options to follow for his type of cancer.

They also would tell him the likely success rate.

They knew that there wouldn't be surgery so their guess was that they were going to schedule the chemo and the drugs that they would use. Radiotherapy would be a feasible option too. Since they knew that his cancer wouldn't likely be cured, they guessed that they were going to try to ease his symptoms by giving him palliative care at least.

Ressler cursed himself for being a doctor.

He didn't want to know the exact outcome of everything that was going to happen. However, he knew.

"_I hate myself, I should have better been an accountant or a lawyer. Medicine? What for? I hate being a doctor when I can't help the people I love",_ Sam thought.

Sam was thinking about all those things while he was driving, his eyes full of tears pretending it was because of his awkward sneezing and the coughing he could barely control. He was barking when Starsky talked for the first time since they left Hope.

"You think this is a contest?" the brunet said amusingly.

"What?" It was the doctor's quiet response.

"You're coughing! the brunet made a long pause and sighed, "Hope it doesn't hurt you," Starsky said worriedly.

"I hope so too," Sam said with a shy chuckle.

And that was all Sam cared about, the hurt, Starsky's sorrow, and his grief.

The shrink only wanted his buddy to be pain-free. He didn't care if, to achieve it, Starsky had to be given tons of painkillers; if they pumped him full of drugs. The doctor knew about pain.

On the road back home from Hope, they were hopeless.

That was the real irony.

Not only his knowledge in Medicine were useless, but also they were pessimistic about the future and his destiny.

Life was a charade.

The fact that a cheerful, lively and healthy man like Starsky, was going to be so ill seemed to be a bad joke. Sam remembered Murray's lurid words in his mind while he was driving. "_If cancer spreads to other parts of your body besides the lymph nodes, Starsky, you can develop various other symptoms such as bone pain, neck pain, and painful headaches or painful cramps. That, depending on the parts where it might spread."_

Pain, pain, and pain.

Starsky had confessed Ressler that he was scared because his back and waist had begun to torture him. And so his stomach too, suddenly a few days ago.

The pain was just impossible.

He could not believe the speed at which all the symptoms were presenting, and he was terrified. It hurt him so much; he said that it started killing him. He told Ressler that he didn't want to suffer, and the doctor thought that it was right; that he had already had his share of pain in his life.

Starsky looked so spent; he couldn't stop thinking in his end all the way back home, so Sam did too.

That was by far the worst moment of all. The way back from Hope.

Starsky said that although he could accept the possibility that his life was running out of time, that it was going downhill in its final countdown... He couldn't agree to take any more pain.

The doctor thought that he was right; that more pain was just unthinkable. "_He can't suffer anymore, not at all,"_ Ressler thought.

"Are you okay? What's going on Starsky?"

Sam asked him when they arrived at the Precinct. Starsky had his eyes closed; his head bent over the car seat.

He was breathing slowly.

"I'm thinking," he said and then got off the car.

*********************S&H***********************

When they arrived at the precinct, it was 12 AM. The squad room was desolated; undoubtedly the most recent outbreak of strep throat was causing lots of casualties around the personnel. Hutch was waiting for Starsky; Dobey had told him that he had been sent to Twin Towers to attend to a little hearing related to Proudholm, who was trying to be released, again…

It wasn't unusual that those kinds of situations with Proudholm happened. Since he was hospitalized, several times, the crazy weirdo had claimed for being cured and applied for being discharged from the mental institution he was in convicted of Terry's murder. Starsky was fully informed of these circumstances, each time they had happened, since the last time he was released ended up killing his girlfriend, and Proudholm's dangerousness was no longer in discussion.

The psychiatrist who treated him even had provoked many encounters with Starsky and the old man, just to check his reactions against his hated police officer.

Crazy George never had been able to overcome the stage he was in.

They never released him, since the hatred toward the detective was still latent in the skin of the poor and desolate old man, so Hutch didn't suspect anything when Dobey informed him about his partner's whereabouts.

He didn't suspect, but he did hurt.

Usually, it was him who had accompanied his partner to these unpleasant encounters with the devil in the past, but this time he had not even been informed... "_Well,_ he thought, _Sam's a psychiatrist,"_ but that fact didn't prevent him from feeling a little bit out of place.

In fact, he was pissed off at the time he had found out that his partner had gone with Sam to that meeting.

Then Dobey tried to talk some sense into him.

Hutch could understand that the psychiatrist could manage better than he the emotional burden that an encounter with Prudholm could mean to Starsky. He could understand that Sam could have other resources, and that was the reason Dobey asked the doctor to go instead of him, besides the Captain told him that he had been unable to find him which was also true since unknowingly his telephone was out of order and he hadn't noticed.

He understood though still hurt.

The blond detective was in a bad temper, and it was quite visible.

His raging discussion with Dobey could be heard from the hallway…

*********************S&H***********************

"What's the problem Hutch, are you questioning my orders?" Dobey's reproach came out of the blue. He was fighting his own guilt trip for being a liar, too.

Of course, Prudholm was just that, a lie, a miserable excuse.

"Not at all, Cap. Oh, come on! What are you talking about? I want the best for Starsky, and if Sam's better than me under these circumstances, I have no problem with that. You know that's not it. It's the constant hiding what bothers me. It seems I'm always the last one to know what's going on, and I'm fed up with that! Shit, Captain what's happening? Everybody's crazy here!"

Hutch felt like his whole world was turning upside down, lately.

Like he was playing another game all around, or someone had changed all the rules… Whatever. He could barely accept that Starsky was so estranged up to now but to have to add a short circuit with Dobey was frankly unthinkable.

He burst out of Dobey's office in a frenzy demeanor, like a madman, wanting to evaporate when he ran into Sam and Starsky. He crashed into them, more definitely.

"You're done with Crazy George? You feeling okay?" he spat at his friend though he realized how distressed Starsky looked.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, buddy," The kinky-haired man patted Hutch in the chest and left the hand there, resting, seeking comfort when suddenly, he hugged him and started mumbling painfully, out of nowhere. His dry gasping was increasing in grief. "I needed you there today, buddy, I really did," Starsky said, doubled in pain. After a long moment, he broke away and looked straight into Hutch's eyes... Starsky's deep pain was just infinite, Hutch could tell.

"Starsky, hey pal! What happened? It wasn't my choice; you know that I would have loved to be there with you by your side but…"

"Yeah, yeah I know it wasn't your decision. I'm okay now". The brunet waited for some time until he recovered, he didn't know if he could go on with the lie, he ordered his thoughts _"I can't tell you the truth, buddy. I just can't, not yet," _ he thought, and went on, "It's okay now, 'Crazy George' is well guarded!" They smiled relieved.

Starsky patted his partner again. "I think that I released the tension at the worst of times, that's all. I'm sorry, I uh - am sorry" the brunet finally said. He searched for Sam, desperately, just asking him with his eyes to help him cheer up the situation, and change the subject, and the doctor understood his purpose.

Mercifully.

"Yeah. Forget about this. Okay, boys, I have a proposal" Sam rubbed his hands in the anticipation "Why don't we go tomorrow to Huggy's? I mean, you know it'll be hump night, and we can shorten the week, can't we? I mean it's been a long time since we went to The Pits together and played some pool. I think that we need a little fun here… Release some tensions?" He raised his eyebrows, "Whadda ya say?"

Hutch smiled shyly. "Well, it's up to Starsky here, he's the one with this secret and hot agenda." He rested his hand on Starsky's left shoulder and then Hutch mischievously approached Sam and whispered in his ear... he was so excited about the fact that his friend was dating someone, that he didn't pay attention to anything else. "I think our friend certainly has a crush on this… uh, Caroline?" the blond-haired man asked for the girl's name.

A nod.

"Caroline it is."

"I ain't seeing any trouble, I uh - I have to do some errands at around 5 PM, and then I'll be scot-free," Starsky answered.

"So we have a date?" Sam asked, holding back a new round of coughing.

"Thank Goodness! Looks like yeah… We have a date. I've been missing you, buddy". Hutch said in earnest.

*********************S&H***********************

The next day, Starsky went to the Precinct, feeling jaded.

And his oppressing feeling, his sadness, wasn't related to the fact that he had that persistent pain in his chest that he was so used to experience lately. What hurt him the most was that he didn't know how long or even if he might be able to keep on hiding the truth from Hutch. He could not stop thinking about it. He was going to hurt his buddy whether he told him or whether he did not. He felt miserable and guilty. A nuisance, a burden. "_I should have better died when Gunther,"_ he couldn't help but think.

With the Chemo over him, he felt that he was running out of time, but he decided he had to be strong, and wait. Though he knew, it would be very difficult to hide the situation from Hutch in the future, he would make his best effort, not to warn his partner that something was wrong, terribly wrong until he was prepared enough to face him and protect him.

He worked all day as if nothing was happening, and when the time for his meeting at Memorial came, he decided he should hear what Murray and Novak had for him in store.

So off he went.

"See ya, Hutch" he waved goodbye.

"Hey, where you going? Don't be late! At 7.30 remember?" Hutch was visibly happy.

"You can count on that."

And he left the squadron.

*********************S&H***********************

Caroline Novak, the oncologist, was a beautiful and intelligent woman in her mid-thirties.

The younger of three sisters, she was born in Connecticut where her wealthy family lived. Outward, fiercely competitive when it came to her job, she was devoted to her profession but also easy going and passionate on a personal level. Still single, she admitted she hadn't actually fallen in love ever, despite the fact that she was gorgeous. She had long auburn hair that was gently curled over her shoulders. She had a very visible facial beauty, very classical, especially in her sparkling deep blue eyes; that could melt the hearts of all men. Her long eyelashes were distracting. However, it was her hair and the thick dark brows that drew the attention of anyone at her mercy, which were stunning, and made her practically impossible not to notice. She was petite, but she had long legs, proportioned and had a dazzling beauty. She was exquisite without even trying, delicate, feminine, and natural and at the same time she was efficient and professional. Only wearing her jeans and her pink baby scrubs, Starsky couldn't help but notice her beauty.

When Starsky and Sam entered Murray's Office at Memorial, the doctor was so engrossed in the brunet's medical record and playing with his pen that he barely lifted his eyes up from it, so it was Caroline who started talking. She spoke gently, slowly and staring straight into Starsky's extraordinary beautiful blue eyes… at least, that was what she thought.

She couldn't help but feeling attracted to the handsome, friendly and alluring man either.

"David, we're gonna start the treatment protocol on Saturday. You'll be admitted in Hope, Friday evening at 6 PM to start all the preparations, and you'll be discharged on Sunday at uh… 8 PM, if everything's all right, of course." She smiled sweetly; she had a motherly cadence in her voice that it was very distracting to him.

"You mean, something can go wrong?" Starsky said out of his reverie and full of doubts. He stood. He nodded and put his hands in his trousers pockets and shrugged, concernedly.

"Yes, David," She said lovingly. "Sit down" she ordered, and he did, and she continued explaining the next steps. "The drugs that we'll inoculate are very strong, very sophisticated, and they can have many side effects, that's why we scheduled the chemo during the weekend, according to your particular request." He frowned, curious, and she continued. "So if we are lucky enough, and the process goes smoothly, which is what we really expect, your job's not gonna be affected, and your partner is going to suspect nothing... You'll have all Sunday to recover." She smiled protectively.

"Thank you, thank you" He nodded sadly but at the same time relief.

"You don't have to thank me. One of the assets of any medical treatment is to try to avoid any unnecessary stress to the patient; I've already told you about that." He nodded while listened intently to her words.

Dr. Murray had stopped rummaging through his annotations, and he joined the conversation and added, "Stress, or any additional physical or psychological harm, David. To avoid it is the highlighted milestone of our job. Let's just say that you must be a unit balanced during the whole procedure, body and mind, okay? We must take care of both aspects and if you need some more time to talk to your partner… we can give you that time, we can respect your wishes since your welfare's our primary, and only purpose." Murray shrugged and further clarified, "I mean, in our line of work your partner is just a liability."

Caroline suddenly realized that Starsky was wholly taken aback and even ashamed of Murray's last words. Somehow he got lost in the middle of the doctor's statements and wasn't paying any attention at all, so she asked him, "What's going on David? Something worries you?"

Murray frowned at the lady; he didn't realize anything out of place.

"Oh that, uh, yeah" He smiled softly, "I'm not so sure that I'm so proud of lying to Hutch the way I'm doing it. I mean I feel selfish, I _am_ selfish" He blinked many times repeatedly and sighed. "I feel mean... And you're so sure, Doctor that it's okay; that everything I'm doing's okay, even lie to my best friend if it is to avoid me any further '_psychological harm,'_ and I ain't so sure." He made a long pause, gathered his strength and sighed. "You said, Dr. Murray, that to respect my decision's fine. That in doing so, you're taking care of my _'emotional state'_ and yadda yadda yadda... And I don't wanna be disrespectful since you're so kind to me, but I'm wondering… What about his? What about his state of mind when he finds out?" He asked concernedly.

"His?" the veteran physician didn't understand.

"Yeah, my partner's, Hutch." He was almost breaking "When Hutch hates me for not having had the courage to tell him the truth because aside from the fact that I am selfish, I also am a coward? What will happen to him?" He nodded humbled.

Caroline stayed speechless.

She could hear behind Starsky's words all the love he had for his friend. In this, the worst moment in which anyone could go through in life, his concern about harming his friend's feelings spoke volumes of how a valuable man her patient was.

She was so shocked by his reaction that she couldn't say a word but Dr. Murray did.

"Let me remind you, Mr. Starsky, that it was your choice. Not ours. You chose to be private, and we've already suggested to you that that's not the best option to make, but you insisted. It's still up to you."

Murray's logic was impeccable.

Starsky nodded, even more, ashamed than before, feeling stupid indeed.

"Mr. Starsky," the seasoned doctor continued, "this is the right time to decide whether it would be worst for you to share this with your friend or wouldn't. It's your decision."

Starsky couldn't utter a sound, distraught as he was. He didn't know what to do, so Caroline realized that he needed to be comforted and decided to protect him; that Murray's words, though fair, had only made him feel guiltier if any. Guiltier, and stupid. The veteran doctor sometimes wasn't tactful at all, and this had been one of those times, so she said, "David, the first time I saw you I realized what kind of a man you are. That you're a kind-hearted man, one of the most compassionate men I've ever met. Selfishness and cowardice are something alien to your being; you're not selfish because you're doing this out of love and trying to protect your partner and of course you are _not_ a coward, no need to remind you why! So, don't berate yourself. We're here for you; we're going to do whatever you need us to do. I..." she regretted instantly, she felt that she was losing it, "We want you to be okay so you may need a little more time to adjust to your diagnosis, and that's normal. You may use a bit more time to be strong for your partner, even for you and the reason you asked for that time, doesn't harbor any selfish thoughts, quite the contrary I could tell" she reached for his hands and squeezed them. "Now we can give you that time if you need it, so if you need it, take it." Caroline said poignantly, she wanted to protect him.

She remembered Sam's words from the day before about the relationship between the two men, about how important it was for Starsky to prevent any harm to his partner.

She also remembered Starsky's feelings about all this, what he had already told her the week before.

Caroline's words were so loving, and the brunet felt so cared by her that he looked up at the girl and stayed astonished at the immensity of her blue eyes.

"Oh, Caroline, Thanks," He sighed. She didn't say anything.

The feeling was mutual, and their eyes met in a different kind of way, for the very first time in that instant.

The spark that ignited their glances appeared there for everybody to see; something different had happened, magical, mysterious... so Sam changed the subject immediately, avoiding the awkward silence, establishing the priorities and stating the obvious of course.

"Starsky, hey," he interrupted the silent communication… "for the first time in your life, you're the most important person, okay? Neither Hutch nor anyone else, and we need to be focused in what happens… which reminds me… What 'preparations" you were referring to? Do we have to do something specific? That's the most important thing right now: your treatment! and we have to put matters into it. What drugs are you going to administer? I wanna know." the pshrink asked Starsky's doctor. He thought it was best to try to keep the conversation at a professional level and didn't push him with a decision he wasn't ready to take yet. He was also anxious.

"You're right, Sam. We can give Mr. Starsky some more time to gather his thoughts. Anyway, about the drugs, let me tell you that the selected ones are Methotrexate plus Etoposide, the usual in SCLC. We'll make this first batch of chemo, and then we'll see if we're gonna use the same drugs or Cisplatin, which is stronger during the second… Or another different combination. This is a very delicate process, we have to adapt ourselves to its development, wait and keep the balance." said Murray.

"So it'll be a second round…?" Starsky asked and chuckled, "Damn! I must be prepared." He affirmed perplexedly.

"Yes, you can count on that. It sure'll be a second batch, Sergeant, and a third, too and mostly, all of them will turn out to be even more uncomfortable than the former ones. I must warn you. The side-effects are going to be worse. So indeed, you must be prepared, David." Murray grimaced while Starsky felt Caroline's eyes all over him, soothing him and reassuring him.

"Speaking of what, which these side-effects are gonna be?" The brunet chuckled and looked at Caroline, he couldn't take his eyes out of her either, "I mean. I'm not so eager to know about 'em, but well, I'm pretty curious. Guess it won't be a walk in the park." He chuckled again, this time louder, trying to sound superficial.

"_Oh, you're such a lovely man,"_ she thought. However, she realized she should keep her coolness as a scientist, his doctor indeed. So she said. "Well, the discomfort through chemotherapy is legendary, perversely famous I'd say, David. We're not gonna lie to you. The cure sometimes is worse than the illness itself when it comes to cancer."

Starsky sighed and bowed his head toward the ground suppressing a sob and tightening his jaw. Caroline's words were very hard, but his reaction disarmed her. She was overwhelmed; like in a movie, she saw his bleak future ahead too, and she couldn't keep on going. She couldn't keep on telling him the side effects, she wanted to disappear; the doctor felt very sorry and searched for Murray with her eyes to replace her with the ominous task, relieve her from saying the words that neither she wanted to believe in, and the veteran doctor did.

"Some of the most common side effects" he continued "are vomiting, dry mouth, fever, chills, body aches, sores in your mouth and throat, infertility and well… hair loss…" Starsky could tell that he expected them to be the side effects, but hearing the doctors saying them was still a shock. "But if you experience easy bruising, unusual bleeding or any other signs of dehydration, those symptoms are of much importance. They're also very dangerous, so you should be well aware of them and tell us, immediately."

"Oh," he whistled, "piece of cake!" he giggled shyly.

"Some organisms take it worse than others, and we won't be able to know which one will be your case, David until we started giving you the drugs." She regained her strength and kept talking, "Maybe... So uh, we strongly recommend that someone of your family stay with you for the whole weekend. A brother, a friend, a … girlfriend?" Caroline asked curiously, "We suggest trying to avoid parents. They get very disturbed," she ended.

"Well, Sam here, he'll stay with me," Starsky said relaxed.

"I'm afraid not." They all raised their eyes to Dr. Murray. "I don't think that it would be possible." The oncologist said firmly.

"How's that? Why? I can't?" Sam asked. He was puzzled.

"Dr. Ressler, I think your friendship with David here's affecting your scientific knowledge. It is known that a cancer patient's immunosuppressed, all right?" Sam nodded, "And that state worsens during chemotherapy supplies. You've done nothing but sneeze and cough from the moment you came into my office today. Actually, you're not only not gonna be Mr. Starsky's companion during his Hospital stay for the weekend but also you should stay away from him until your symptoms subside. And that is more than a medical advice." John Murray seemed to have the world's answers.

"Oh, boy I - 'm sorry, I'm very ashamed, I'm sorry. You are right," He grabbed his head with both hands clutched, worried, "It's that, I'm so shocked, that I can't think clearly."

"Hey, buddy, hey, hey..." Starsky touched Sam's arm soothing him, comforting him. "You've told me that we must try to stay optimistic, and, on the other hand, that we need to be realistic too. So why are you so worried?" He shrugged "Think about it, with all the medication that I'm taking... How can I be infected with that little bug of yours, uh?" He squinted his eyes and made a face smiling naughtily. "I'm using a sledgehammer to crack a nut!" He tried to reason and attempted to be encouraging, he sighed and shook his head with a serious expression. "From what we know now, I'll start the treatment on Saturday, and we'll see how it goes. Okay? I'm gonna take each day as it comes and just gets on with it. It is what it is." He opened his arms and grimaced groaning "I've already had enough hours wallowing in sadness and self-pity, feeling sorry for me and well… scared. Cancer's a goddamn motive, but I won't give that funny bug of yours the satisfaction." All of them smiled. "If you're out, you're out. I'm going in alone. It's so easy to slip away into hopelessness, Sam. Remember what happened to me yesterday with Hutch at the Precinct? It's out of my system now. Gone." He winked to Caroline remembering her words... and continued "I've moved on. I feel secure. I won't deny, It's a very challenging situation, and I find I'm always tense, but I trust my doctors here, and I know that I can face it alone. I'm strong." He broke and said, "I only know one thing, one thing." He raised his left index, closed his eyes, made a pause and sighed "that now I need to stay more focused than I've ever needed to be before… I need to keep everything together and not falter at any little obstacle to try to succeed. Cancer's painful enough to add extra pain to my heart!" his eyes were wet.

Their eyes were wet.

When they left Murray's Office, the doctors realized that when everything come to its end, they would feel a lot of grief by losing a man like Starsky.

He had just shown an overwhelming integrity, courage, and bravery and, above all, such a deep love and remarkable strength.

"Why's life so determined to get rid of the most valuable people?" Caroline said while looking through the window as Starsky and Sam were crossing the street in front of Memorial.

"Caroline, hey. Don't get involved, lady. You know what I mean" Murray could feel like this was no ordinary patient for his partner.

"Yes. I also know it, but still, I wish I could have that answer."

When Sam and Starsky left Murray's Office, the brunet was a little bit down and stiff.

He said that his constant and familiar pain had overcome him again but that he guessed that he'd get used to it.

However, it wasn't the pain what was really nagging him… which was really tormenting him was that he knew that once he starts the chemo, its side effects would be very difficult to disguise in his health. The thing that was killing him, besides cancer, was the fact that he knew that he should make up his mind either to tell Hutch what was happening or just disappear.

For starters, they had an appointment, and they were going to spend the night together at Huggy's.

**ACT 17 -LAST NITE'S RITES AT HUGGY'S -**

"Why don't you ask Huggy?"

Sam didn't want to bring the issue, but Starsky's decision to ask Huggy if he would be his caretaker during chemo was imperative.

"Nah, I can't. And I won't," the brunet looked at Sam over the Camaro's roof.

"He loves you, man!" Sam had both his hands on the car, palms down and waiting for his answer until Starsky got inside the car in the driver's seat without answering him and started the engine, so he entered on his side of the car too and continued talking. "Listen, you are not going to go alone in there on Friday, okay? I won't allow you!"

"You won't?" Starsky laughed, "Stuff it, Sam! Will you?"

"Hey, what Dr. Murray and Caroline said about it was crystal clear."

Starsky wasn't looking at him; his eyes fixed on the windshield. He was pissed off, and he was snorting. "Look, the only thing that's crystal plain here is that I don't feel like being anyone's burden, Sam, not again!" he firmly said. The doctor didn't say anything, and the brunet said calmer while scratched his nape, "I mean, Hug's my friend since I'm 14 years old, and I don't want him to be a witness of my decay." Starsky turned his head to Sam's side, his look was feral and lost. The doctor remained silent wishing for a reaction to appear in his friend's troubled mind. "He doesn't deserve it." Starsky continued saying categorically and also expecting for the doctor's understanding reaction. When none come, he opened his eyes searching for his friend's sympathy and sighed avoiding a sob. "I've already abused of my buddies," he tried to explain himself again, "from all of them four years ago. I ain't got the nerve to demand that sort of sacrifice again! No!" He shook his head and regained his position afar while continued talking. "I refuse to put them into this new nightmare. It wasn't pretty back then, and it'll be worse right now. I don't have it in me, buddy, not anymore. No, no I don't want to." He shook his head.

"You finished?" Sam said ironically. Starsky cast angry eyes upon him. "In case you haven't noticed, they won't admit you at Hope for the chemo if you're alone." the doctor insisted, trying to make him understand.

Starsky chuckled and bit his lower lip in a twisted way, shaking his head no, he regained his position looking at the front. "That's bullshit, and you know it. You think I'm mentally challenged, don't ya? In case you haven't noticed, I have cancer and yes! It metastasized…" He took a deep breath, "but in my nearby lymph nodes, not in my brain. At least yet." He laughed even more ironically, "I can still think clearly, buddy." He looked at Sam again behind his sunglasses.

"Oh," The psychiatrist turned his head back with a gesture of annoyance and closed his eyes, "That's disgusting! Skip your irony, please? Starsky, would you? Shut up for once and think."

"Hey, what?" He said mockingly and looked again through the windshield. "You've got it all wrong today, buddy boy! Don't expect me to be that different. I'm gonna lose my hair but not my sense of humor!" He sadly grimaced and turned his head to Sam's side again.

"You're terrible!" Sam smiled sweetly and touched Starsky's shoulder with infinite tenderness. He felt moved; he admired this man's courage, who even in times like these, struggled to make those around him enjoy the worst of times in the lightest way possible. "Why don't you put the car in drive?", the doctor asked the brunet.

"And leave it all behind?" Starsky completed the sentence and laughed. "Yeah, I wish I could. I was thinking about that possibility since they've told me but…" He sighed again with nostalgia. "Yeah, we better hurry or Hutch would go crazy, besides I'm running out of even gas here," he winked and then he put the Camaro in drive, fast.

"Like I said, you're an amazing man," Sam really admired Starsky's inner strength and his resilience, "after all that you've been through." The doctor shook his head astonished.

"Well, let's just say that I have my skills to face misfortunes! I mastered the technique long ago!" he said pompously and smiled. "Had no choice whatsoever, in fact," finally he admitted somberly.

"Anyway, you could improve your skills, pal. I mean, you can get a little help in that area, too. There's no need to face it alone." Sam insisted

"I won't ask anybody, doc. Don't insist. I don't wanna ask anybody to come to the Hospital and sit with me and suffer with me. Just forget it! Okay?" Starsky was determined to get his way with it.

"I won't forget it, and I'm serious here, Starsky. Caroline's been pretty clear about your slim chances to get over with the chemo if you are going in alone and suffering any emotional distress." He raised his eyebrows in understanding.

"And I still don't buy it! I mean there are lots of people living alone in the world. So from your perspective, those people would likely be dead without medical care and assistance just because they don't have anyone to be their chaperone?" He smiled ironically. "Come on! That is what you mean? How come they ain't gonna admit me if I'm alone!" he assumed.

"No, that's not it. That's not what I mean. What I mean is how do you think you're gonna deal with Monday?" Sam said.

"Monday? What's gonna happen on Monday?", the brunet was at a loss.

"How are you gonna feel on Monday if, besides the suffering and discomfort caused by the medication and its potential side effects, -we don't know yet- you add the anguish to get through those moments on your own?" An utterly heavy silence flooded inside the car. "That is what I meant." Sam finished; looked at him gravely and snorted.

They were in silence for some time.

Starsky kept driving. The doctor insisted. "Pal, the oncs deal with this scenario every day so if they say that it's not good for you to face it alone, why? Please?" Sam was disconsolate. Ressler was almost begging him at the moment, but Starsky stayed inflexible. "Don't be stubborn!" the pshrink insisted. "Huggy's the only one who can take it without Hutch getting suspicious, that is what you want; you have to skip anybody else from the Precinct for that matter, and I'm overruled, unfortunately. I think he's your only option." He tried to reason.

Starsky pulled over. He was tired and angry. "Oh, you shut up, please! You're making me sick! That sucks! Do you hear yourself? Do you really listen to yourself? What do you want me to do? You are not only pretending that I ask Huggy to play my sidekick for the most disgusting thing I've ever dared imagine in my life but also to tell him, that I have cancer? Right now, out of the blue! Today? with, with, with no preparation? You want me to go and tell him that I'm gonna die. _You know, Hug? I'm gonna disappear, just like this"_ he snapped his fingers "In a blink of an eye! In maybe 5 or 10 or whatever months from now. Oh, man…" He opened his arms; he was clueless, "I can't, I just can't do that, I just can't do that to him, not now. I - I can't hurt him in that way, I - I cannot even accept it myself. I'm so sorry that you already know, that I had no choice but to tell Dobey." Starsky was on the verge of crying, but he didn't.

He put the car in drive again, roughly, angrily.

"He knows you're sick, doesn't he? Huggy, knows." Sam insisted quietly, reflexively.

A sharp silence invaded the space between the two buddies into Starsky's car.

"I mean he was with you when you had that fainting spell in the restroom, the other day at the Pits, so he knows…" Sam's impassive tone came timidly, but he had to keep trying.

Nothing.

"Anyway. I bet that he'll ask you what the doctors said since he knows that you had an appointment during last week with them, doesn't he?"

Nothing.

"I mean… that it won't be out of the blue, buddy." Starsky heard unperturbed.

Still nothing.

"Try to be reasonable, Starsky and think about it. This or either way, if you don't ask Huggy, Hutch, will know."

That did it.

Made him react.

"Now you're threatening me, aren't you?" Starsky frowned full of anger and fixed in him his angry look.

"I'm telling you what's gonna happen, threats or not threats!" Sam said gravely and firmly.

Starsky pulled over again. This time furiously and screeching the tires. He stayed immobile, breathing heavily and sitting in the car along the curb, for some while without saying a word, until he started the engine again and Sam restarted talking, persistently.

"You're gonna be so worn out on Monday if something goes wrong with the chemo that you won't be able to hide it from Hutch, buddy. That's what's gonna happen. Like it or not." Sam finished saying. "You always told me you wanted to protect him from that."

During the next 15 minutes, the time it took them to get to The Pits, no one said any more word.

They got off the car, in silence.

"So what are you gonna do?" Sam grabbed his arm before they enter The Pits, Starsky looked at him, half angry, half sad.

"You gotta be putting me on, Sam, I don't know! I'm here stuck between a rock and a hard place; I dunno what to do. I guess I'll let the game decide, okay?"

"Okay," The doctor granted.

*********************S&H***********************

When they entered the Bar, Hutch and Huggy were already there waiting for Starsky and Sam. They were sitting at the customary booth with peanuts and two shaken pints of chilled beer, all spirited and in good moods.

It was a nice scene to see.

"Hi, buddies! We're finally together at last! Let's celebrate." Hutch raised his glass to toast. He was determined that nothing or no one was going to ruin this, his time, his big time, with Starsky. The brunet was beside him and looking as good as he hadn't seen him since a long time ago. Beside him, where he should always be.

And Huggy could feel it. He had witnessed the affection many times before. That day it seemed that his friends' legendary bond had resurfaced, and it showed, especially, how happy the blond haired one was. So he decided that he would carry on his part too, and he would be the greatest emcee the show would ever have. Huggy knew that he also had to find out what had happened to Starsky and his doctors. So the thin black man stood up and welcomed his friends, creating a diversion, and started to get things into the swing of moods with extreme naughtiness, as he always did.

"Hey, Anita look what the cat dragged in!" He pointed into Starsky's direction. The brunet was taken by surprise. Anita raised her head from the booth next to them that she was cleaning and brightened at the eye candy view. She smiled and diligently approached Starsky's side.

"See?" Huggy said to Hutch. "'Satisfaction guaranteed' Hutchie. She's here in a jiffy. Seems like I found a good bait!" He laughed openly, they all laughed. "Anyway lady, don't get distracted by this" he shilly shallied about Starsky, amusingly moving his fingers, "Whatchamacallit? Forget it! You know what I'm talking about here so come on, let's give us more peanuts and pour as more beer 'tout de suite', please?"

She stayed motionless, with her mouth open and looked irksome, but Huggy decided that he would go on with his joke. He decided this night he would put forth on his prankish charm at its fullest. He snapped his fingers in front of her. "Hey! And now she's on cloud nine! '_Houston. Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."_ He was pretending to impersonate Neil Armstrong's voice and put his hand over his mouth as if he was talking into a radio. Anita was outraged, and Huggy finished saying to her, "Don't give me the eye like that, lady… You're known to have developed an irreversible snoopy tendency with this particular officer."

Starsky's incredulous eyes could not open wider. He was standing still, watching the show, blushing and secretly smiling too and shook his head.

"See?" Huggy continued and pointed to her with his hand. "You look like a badge bunny and all, and you are not! But when it comes to him…" he shook his head and sighed. "Anyway, you should pay attention to your reputation darling, I'm very demanding with my personnel. Come on!" he clapped his hands "Compose yourself. We're gonna start the game in 5 minutes, so would you please bring us our nourishment? Come on, speed up, speed up!" he touched her in her butt

She wouldn't let things stay that way, that was a given; Gosh, she was outraged! She wouldn't be the only dupe there and her reaction, was exactly what Huggy was waiting for to officially starting the night, so, past posting as a high roller in Vegas she added cunningly. "Hey, it's not my fault that Starsky here makes his usual swagger, strutting in his painted jeans with that deadly weapon of his all packed inside" She touched him in the ass. "He's a whole damn ADW himself, your buddy, Huggy!" She smiled and took the dark-haired man by his chin, looked him up and down and batted her eye before leaving shaking her mane.

Hutch's outburst was so unusual that it was memorable.

Full of joy, Sam thought that the moment itself was priceless. Hutch couldn't stop laughing at loud at Anita's roguery.

So taking advantage of the explosion and the blond's distraction, Huggy saw his opportunity and made a knowing gesture to Starsky while heading near to him and asked him how he felt.

For Sam's sake, who was listening, Starsky answered that he was doing better although he'd need to ask him an important favor for the weekend. "Sure," Huggy said.

"_He's gonna tell him_," Sam, thought relieved.

"What did you say, buddy?" Unexpectedly, Hutch asked Starsky barely recovered from his fit of laughter when he realized that his friend had talked to Huggy. "This Anita… calling you, an ADW!" His stomach ached.

"And what's that?" Sam hurried to ask, fearful of what the blond-haired man might have heard and bewildered but mostly with the purpose to distract him.

"An ADW is an Assault with a Deadly Weapon in the police jargon!" he told Sam, "Starsky! You moving that butt of yours like that; bouncing it so beguilingly in front of everybody here," the blond moved his head. "You should really try to change those skinny jeans of yours, buddy or I'll have to end up my shift doing my first collar of the day and for a molestation." Hutch stopped laughing.

"Give a dog a bad name" was Starsky's short, sweet response.

Suddenly, the brunet was startled by Anita, who came behind him and softly in his ear, she said. "I can give you the name you want, baby. And I could even convert you to Christianity and baptize you if you ask me to. What about... 'Sex on legs'? It would suit you pretty good." She left and winked at him.

For some reason he still couldn't find out, Hutch thought that this moment should be forever treasured in his mind and in his brain where lots of pictures were stored. He had the strange feeling that somehow later on in his life, a memory would not justify what he was feeling at this moment. He felt that only a memory wouldn't be enough to remember the pleasure and joy he was experiencing and was coursing throughout his body, and he didn't want the moment never to end. He knew he won't ever forget the laughter, the joy, that instant never.

Even if he lost his mind.

They ended their beers; the pool game was waiting.

"So let's play! I'm craving for the pool!" said Hutch.

"Ok, Heads and Tails to set the couples?" Sam proposed.

"Well, I don't think so. I strongly recommend that we should be more professional, shouldn't we buddy?" Starsky teased with irony, "I don't wanna be accused to have another silly tantrum by him…" Starsky headed in Hutch's direction "So I think that maybe we can decide who is with by a lag? Whaddaya think Hutch?"

"Rancorous," the blond said, wearing that skewed look he always reserved just for Starsky, "We can play Rock-paper-scissors too." he offered.

"Oh, I love Rock-paper-scissors! You know that according to one New York Times's article of 1932 about the Tokyo rush hour, the game was not at that time widely known in the U.S. and so weren't its rules?." The brunet said childishly and full of enthusiasm. 100% Starsky's style.

"Starsky! That's incredibly interesting!" Hutch said, rolling his eyes "How do you know that?" In fact, he couldn't believe his partner.

"Well," the shorter man said modestly. "I have an overwhelming amount of useless trivia stored in my head which explains how I can remember so many movies' quotes, newspaper's articles and such," he said smugly.

"Oh yeah! Well so, if you think that we don't know the rules of Rock-paper-scissors yet we can always play hopscotch if you want, and maybe we can even end up in heaven," Hutch giggled.

There was a stern silence; the banter suddenly finished when Starsky out of his reverie, bitterly said: "I don't like Hopscotch."

Sam, even Huggy, understood. Everyone but Hutch, so enthusiastic the blond was to play with his friend, so he kept on saying. "So get started and put the rack, is that it? I'll play with Sam here, okay?"

Starsky was a little bit taken aback by the previous words and even disappointed at Hutch's decision to play with the doctor. Though he knew that that kind of games was between the two of them, he wanted to play with his partner.

Lately, sometimes, he couldn't help but feel that anything could be their last chance.

"What am I, chopped liver?" He said, regaining his composure "Okay, you wanna play with Sam? I'll go with Huggy"" and he took the stick.

Hutch smiled at the brunet's pout.

"All balls scattered. Let's begin," then the blond announced in a croupier style.

"And who begins?" Starsky only asked.

"Okay, Starsk!" Hutch made a face of tiredness. "Do it your way, let's do the coin flipping."

"You see? I'm always right! This is the best way of sortation… Heads for me!" The coin flipped in the air. "So this is it! I win, you lose… 8-ball again and starting. Man, I'm sick of winning the eight ball game."

"Shuddup and start," Hutch said rolling his eyes.

"As you wish!."

The dark-haired man stepped by the head string with a closed bridge and pulled back farther. A smooth, controlled backswing; just below the center of the ball. The cue ball died after contact and broke.

There weren't any fouls and Starsky continued to shoot, getting a series of draws, five in a row. It was colossal. His hits were consistent, accurate and efficient, his grip was relaxed, he kept the cue ball as level as possible, accelerating smoothly into the ball, spinning and lessen the speed when it was needed. The last hit a masse.

"If there's a right time to a masse, this is it. Hit the ball, my man. Your stick's loaded." Huggy encouraged him.

Starsky was very focused and attentive, and they were all reduced to put chalk on their sticks. So he hit it, and the pocket roared. "_This way I'm gonna beat you!_" He thought about his cancer.

The match of his lifetime.

"That was better than Bruce Lee's One-Inch-Punch stance! You're a natural, buddy" Huggy exaggerated, but he was excited.

"Game, set and match, sucker!"

Everybody greeted and congratulated him and Huggy by proxy.

"_Don't Starsky, not again. This time it could be for real"_, Sam thought.

"Partner, I think that it's about time you honor that old bet of yours" the brunet winked. "Lemme see" he rummaged through the menu. "Where are those specials, Huggy?" His legs were moving forward, eagerly, "Several of us are wondering what the hell's going on here? I have all the things settled; the ball has rolled on the table. I won, as always… But something's missing. Where are the specials?" Starsky looked uncomfortable

"Grab the menu and don't ask questions." Hutch shushed him. "The specials are forbidden for now; they were so good, so good that Huggy was already cited in City Hall because of an intellectual property dispute."

"A what? What are you talking? That's insane!" Starsky said incredulously.

"Insane or not, that's the way it is!" Hutch explained.

At that same time, the slim black man came back to the table and found the brunet's amazed stare looking at him. "What's going on?" Huggy asked.

"Tell me about the specials. It's an utter tragedy!" Starsky said astonished while Hutch rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, it's terrible, this is what happened"; Huggy straddled the chair and leaned on the table quietly… "I fired one of the cooks here;" The curly haired man nodded visibly interested, "his name - which he purposefully neglected to include in his complaint - is Russell Wayne Bromley. Remember him?" Hutch also started to pay attention and frowned. All of them shrugged, none of them knew who Huggy was referring to. "Well, I guess that you didn't know him. The man was bossy, obstinate and combative with everyone in the kitchen, and he only stayed for three months. He used to wear a black hooded sweatshirt. Do you remember? He was dark, really dark." They all kept on shrugging no. They didn't know this Bromley at all. "Well… I've never seen his face either!" Huggy clarified. "Okay, never mind, forget it!" he continued energetically. "He was so obnoxious that he didn't get the orders on time among other nasty behaviors! And I couldn't allow that to happen in my fancy restaurant! So I fired him! I received many complaints from my distinguished clientele, and he didn't seem to care. In fact, he paid more attention to his frustrated intends to have some "_secret businesses_" with little Trevor here… If you get my drift, than to do his job. So I decided, I should help the little kid get rid of the pervert, and I fired him."

"So he was gay? What did that have to do with the Specials…?" Hutch asked curiously.

"Nothing. I don't care anything about his sexual choices! Didn't either. But when he messed up with my respected business, I couldn't accept it!" Huggy shook his head and berated.

"But what about the specials?" Starsky didn't get it. His only interest was the food.

"Oh yeah! Before the end of May, he decided to take the specials out of my menu and profit from them personally. He claimed that they were his "_intellectual property_" despite the fact that Anita here's the real magician… The real mentor of the recipe. You believe that? He just wanted to harm."

The story was incredible but very exciting, and Huggy had an active audience. They were all astonished, and the lanky man kept talking.

"I never made any agreement with this wacko that grants him any ownership of the recipe or its secret ingredient which, I cannot divulge. And eventually, I had to bring my attorney into the matter to secure the bar's fame and to get him to desist. Unfortunately, he had evidently not desisted, but he didn't show up to the last Court date, and we'll have the next hearing in… August? I guess. So since the past week and until then, the specials are banned. Out of my menu. Lawyer's advice!" He made a gesture.

"What?" Starsky asked disconsolately and hungry.

"Those are the legal regulations, curly. But I can still prepare them for you." Huggy winked at Starsky. "But believe me, buddy, that man's mad! He went so far the girls, and I have concerns about our own safety." Huggy inflated his chest, pretty scared.

"What's his name?" Starsky frowned and asked again.

"He goes by Russell Wayne and, believe me, he's emotionally unstable. Ressler here would put him in Cabrillo any given day. He never befriended anyone in the business, his looks so haunted… And he was obsessed with poor Trevor boy. The day I fired him, shortly before I did, Anita found him sniffing my stuff and he threatened her.. Maybe he was trying to steal the recipe?" Huggy shrugged, incredulous.

The story was at least weird… But that was Huggy for Christ's sake! So they weren't surprised either. They didn't talk about it again, for the rest of the night and kept on remembering the old days and drooling about the new girls. Hutch insisted on that Starsky confesses who his date was, who this Caroline was, but he didn't succeed, and that left the flaxen-haired man with an odd taste, but the night was a success.

At 1 AM, Sam called the night quits, and he asked Hutch if he could take him home. His own transportation was at Merle's, so he had ridden with Starsky, in the evening. Besides, since his house was nearer from Venice than from Starsky's in the Hills, he thought that it would be better to ask Hutch to take him home. One way or another the pshrink would ensure that the brunet would talk to Huggy and sort those things for the weekend, so they left.

The instant the two friends got out of The Pits, Starsky's mood changed drastically.

He became gloomy and taciturn.

*********************S&H***********************

"Hey, what's going on, buddy? Want another beer?" Huggy asked him, perceptively.

"No, I don't. I just…" he filled his lungs, "I just need another glass of water, please? I hafta take my pills". His head hurt, the effort he had put was taking its toll, and he started searching for the antibiotics and the codeine into his jacket. He took out two small bottles of pills from his inside pocket and put them on the table.

"Zithromax, Proventil?" Huggy was curious, he poked through the tablets and the package inserts. "You're still working homicide, or you're an undercover agent from the DEA now?" He smiled but didn't see a smile reflected in his buddy's face, so he stopped and asked: "What do you need me for during the weekend?"

"Gimme to me!" Starsky snatched one of the bottles angrily but didn't answer.

He couldn't look at Huggy; he had no strength to do it. He swallowed the first one, the red and white codeine and started looking around the Pits.

His nervous sight elsewhere, everywhere, less in his friend.

"What's going on Starsky, you okay? You ain't gonna pass out on me again, are you?"

"Keep calm, Huggy." He turned his head to Huggy but still couldn't look him in the eye, his glance fixed on the floor. "I'm taking my medicines regularly; there won't be any dizzy spell. There weren't any so far almost for the last week as well…"

"Well, that's good news! So what's the problem you can't look me in the eye, uh? And all these medicines, I mean... You could be my old man, buddy! Did you go to see the doctor, finally? What did he say?"

Starsky sighed; trying to fill his hurt lungs. For him, there was no easy way to say what he had to say. Where to start? He stayed a long while silent, biting his lower lip and looking for the courage to speak, scratching his head, and thinking. Maybe it was a bad idea; maybe he should go home and leave it all behind and not bother Huggy with his nasty and sad news, but he felt so alone at the moment...

The spell of the night, its last rites had been gone; they had ended, and he felt like an orphan, so frightened and lousy. He needed someone to hug him; he felt icy.

"I'm sick, Hug. I'm very sick." his eyes still on the floor.

There was a long silence. Sharp. Huggy's heart rate started to rise increasingly…

"How's that buddy, tell me," the old friend said trying to sound firm.

"I'll be admitted to the Hospital this weekend for..." he made a pause, he was still without looking at Huggy, "and I need you to take care of me. To come and stay with me", Starsky raised his eyes to his friend "which is what my onc advised.".

Huggy frowned. "Your, what? Your…" He was confused "That can't be Starsky… You? What - what did you say?"

"My oncologist."

He looked straight at Huggy for the first time with puppy eyes, raised his eyebrows and nursed a grievance. "She strongly recommended that I shouldn't be left alone during chemo and… You know, Hutch doesn't know shit yet, and I don't have anybody else but you. It's just for the weekend, Hug… I - I need you just for this weekend."

Starsky knew he had been rude. The way he had told Huggy what was happening to him made him feel unfair and unscrupulous, but he couldn't manage it otherwise. He couldn't stop the words out of his mouth. They burnt his chest more than his cancer did; the sooner he said the words, then everything would happen faster.

"Your… you?" Huggy was still speechless and terrified

"I have Cancer." Starsky fixed his eyes in the brown orbits of his lifelong friend. He had said it. The whole name.

"No." Now it was Huggy who couldn't raise his head.

"I have cancer, and I'm gonna die, Hug."

"No!" Huggy looked at him "You ain't gonna leave us, Starsky. Not now, not like this. That can't be Starsky, you…?"

An immense emptiness got caught between them, for the first time they shared their glances… And Starsky raised his eyebrows, with his eyes full of tears and until the moment Huggy quietly understood… And Starsky realized that he did. So he nodded and sighed. "It's awful, Hug, also appalling, but it's true. I'm in the last stages of lung cancer."

Huggy looked down, ashamed, useless, spent.

"It hurts?" A silly question.

"Oh yeah, it hurts," Starsky said tenderly and with a little smile.

"And how did you take it? I mean..." Huggy was at a loss for words, so broken.

Starsky shrugged listlessly, "Well I'm just trying to make my way through each day, you know. Some days are okay, and others are pretty bad. Some days I feel strong, and I think that I can handle everything that's going on. The next day I'm all curled up in a ball," he shrugged "like a little kid" and smiled quietly. "Sometimes I don't wanna get outta my bed because I'm scared about what the day will bring..."

"How much time?" Huggy interrupted him, his concern so palpable.

Starsky stayed silent. He didn't want to tell him the truth, but then, he figured out there was no reason to lie to Huggy.

"Well, they say I only have ten maybe twelve months to go…" Starsky said helplessly.

There was a long silence.

He could feel that Huggy was devastated by the news, so he tried to comfort.

"But you don't have to be scared, buddy, actually we're all dying only that I got the edge. I know when it would happen most likely, Cochise," he winked.

Huggy started sobbing bitterly and reached for Starsky, to hug him, to caress him and support him.

"I love you, Starsky!" He cooed, and Starsky's whole body hunched over too, releasing the tension of the moment until he shook it off the anxiety and the uncertainty. He kept his eyelids squeezing shut to no avail.

They stayed that way for a long while. They were alone.

Until Starsky scrubbed his eyes with his fists, like a little kid.

Holding back the tears.

He wasn't prone to cry, but this time he had done it, so he felt embarrassed.

It's so good to feel beloved.

**ACT 18 \- HOPE -**

"It's okay; it's okay… Everything's gonna be okay." Starsky nodded reassuringly, seeking complicity, trying to reach his Captain's arm with a sweet smile on his face. The brunet man realized that Dobey seemed to falter anytime, that he was in so much distressed. "I, uh, I'll be okay," he raised his eyebrows, "You'll see. Everything's gonna be alright and next Monday, I'll be here Cap'n, as good as ever and safe and sound. I promise I promise. You don't have to be worried, Cap'n. I'm asking you, please?" He said soothingly.

"No Starsky, no. Nothing's okay. This is not okay!" Dobey stood up and started pacing in his office. "You are not okay, nothing will ever be okay again if we don't tell your partner what's going on with you. I don't know if you're gonna be okay and, and I'm… Oh man! I'm sorry." He sat down and grabbed his head with both his hands snorting. "Oh God! I'm sorry, son; I guess that I should be the one who supports you at this moment; the one who gives you a little comfort at this time. I'm no support like this. I'm so sorry, but..." The Captain shook his head, sadly.

He felt desolated; the news was utterly devastating.

"We'll sort this out, Cap'n. I need to start the treatment and see how it goes; that's all I need. A little more time that's all!" Starsky insisted.

"I don't think that this is a good idea. I mean you can't leave Hutch in the dark, Starsky! This is absolutely out of character please; please try to be reasonable. What is that I am supposed to do until Monday? Uh? I know that I can contact Huggy to find out how the things are doing with the treatment and to know how are you feeling, I can even go myself to Hope but… What if?" Dobey couldn't find the right words.

"What if. What if. There are many what ifs, Cap'n. My whole existence is a big what if right now. I don't know what's gonna happen. I only know what's going on now, and I wanna face things in my way."

"Your way? And what about Hutch? What's your way? He'll suspect Starsky. What is what I must do, in that case? Whatever it is, I won't have the nerve to do it, to hide it from him. Not anymore. Don't make me choose between you and him please, Dave. I feel like you're dragging me into this..." he shook his head "this madness and, and I'm not sure this is the right thing to do" Dobey muttered.

The Captain thought that Starsky's idea to keep on hiding the truth from Hutch was very unfortunate, to say the least.

Besides, he was scared, intimately.

The surly man was afraid that something would happen to Starsky in the meantime.

He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to overcome the illness without Hutch at his side or that something would go very wrong. Dobey was sure that the most terrible things would happen and that when he finally feels secure enough to face his partner, it would be already too late. However, Starsky was determined to go ahead with his plan; nobody would convince him otherwise. And after a long silence in which their glances met, he said. "I'm begging you Cap'n, please? I NEED! some more time. What's so difficult to understand?."

It seemed human to give him some more time to adjust himself to his illness. The younger man was all over Dobey's desk, and he explained himself with his hands.

"Some more. Just a little more time. I have to be strong to tell Hutch the truth, to help him cope." he asked for Dobey's comprehension, begged for it with his eyes and his heart.

Starsky waited for a moment to his desire to sink into his Captain's heart; and sat again, feeling weary and glum. He was so scared and felt so alone he only lost his sight on the floor waiting. Dobey stayed speechless. "Cap'n, he's gonna be so sore and scared when he finds out..." the brunet sighed sadly. "I feel like… I have to be strong, for him and me, that I have to be really prepared just to help him, and I'm not yet! Please…? I know that they said that this kind of cancer is unlikely to be cured but… What if they are wrong? Uh? As I said, there are so many what ifs." Starsky made the more boyish face he could muster. His branded sealed. But at the same time, he sounded steadfast and finally said, "I don't feel like giving up. I have this little spark of hope that maybe the chemo…?" he shrugged, "I don't wanna die, Cap'n. I'll tell Hutch after the chemo, please? Please? Maybe this will work out, and I can save him part of the despair." Though the doctors had said that a remission was hardly possible, he secretly harbored this little piece of hope that the chemo would change the course of things. "It's just one more week, Cap'n." he insisted.

Dobey nodded; silently agreed. He didn't have the strength to deny Starsky that little sliver of promise and future.

So the brunet stood up. "Thanks, Cap'n" and he left to meet his future in Hope and find out what the first round of three had in waiting for him.

When Hutch arrived at the Precinct, Starsky was already gone.

He had told Hutch that he wouldn't be in Bay City for the weekend because he would spend his free days with his new girl. Hence, the blonde-haired man wasn't suspicious.

In fact, he wasn't expecting to find Starsky at all. The only thing that caught his attention was the way Captain Dobey left Metro, somberly and barely saying goodbye.

It felt awkward.

Anyway, he felt good, and he was happy enough for his partner to have the possibility to start a new relationship.

Hutch felt like there was nothing to get worried about, except for the fact that, of course, he couldn't help but miss Starsky, but he knew that his partner usually launched into his relationships with such a delivery. He knew that Starsky devoted body and soul to one new relationship, almost forgetting everything. It had happened to him with Terry and even worse it had been with Rosey Malone, so his absence did not ring any bell to Hutch. That was the way his friend was.

Intense.

And that same intensity was what made him so imperative.

The flaxen-haired man also left the Precinct, to yet another weekend alone but with the certainty that his partner was starting to get back to his old self, and that felt good.

Superb.

*********************S&H***********************

The room was dimly lit; the bluish tint of the walls gave the place an eerie appearance. Starsky had finally managed to get some sleep after a hard and long morning. Caroline was checking his vitals since Mary, the nurse, had just removed the IV line with the medication. They were still monitoring his heart rate.

The lady doctor was working diligently, but aware of the vast distress in which Huggy, the man's friend, was. She was very used to pay attention to the families; sometimes they were worse off than the patients themselves.

Huggy was no exception.

"_I wonder what the story between these two might be, why they became friends…" _ Caroline thought. She was curious.

The gloomy man, beside her patient, looked completely drained; his face distorted with pain. Maybe she might never find out what the connection between these two was; they were that different, but Huggy's vigil was forlorn enough, so she realized that her patient was a crucial person in the black and thin man's life.

Huggy was sitting by Starsky's right side, just watching him sleep without knowing what else to do. He was rooted to the spot like frozen. He was following every little procedure she was performing over the overly still body of his friend with his big brown eyes opened.

So she started talking softly to him trying to be as friendly as possible.

She explained him, just to ease his discomfort and reassure him, that it was normal for the drugs to cause that weird drowsiness that her patient was experiencing. She warned him and reminded him that she was in charge, that he shouldn't be scared and that everything was going to be okay no matter the diagnosis… so

Huggy asked the attractive doctor, out of the blue, "So, it usually happens this way?"

She startled and got disturbed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." he said contrite.

"You didn't," she said, and she kept assessing the patient's responses, "I was just distracted, you were saying, Mr. Huggy?"

She was exquisite with her big blue eyes, her wavy auburn hair, and her endless legs. Huggy thought that she sure was going to fall for him, and he wouldn't let the opportunity, nor the lady, pass unscathed either. He knew Starsky, at least the old Starsky that much and in those thoughts, he was distracted too.

"What did you say Mr. Huggy, excuse me?" Caroline asked again; she was lost in Starsky's chart too. Her interest in his care was clearly eloquent.

"You can call me just Huggy" he smiled, and she mirrored. "I was saying that it surprised me that the first round of chemotherapy has so many symptoms of rejection. I mean, I never thought," he said, worried.

"Well, it can happen. Though the first one's usually the less aggressive of all of them. Perhaps, you can expect it gets worse tomorrow and even worse during the next rounds" She said, and he grimaced in pain, his eyes were full of pain. The doctor waited for him to compose and then went on. She put her hand over his shoulder, comforting him. "But, in fact, Huggy, this isn't exactly a rejection. I mean he's not experiencing any symptoms of rejection. This is entirely expected; it's normal. The drugs are so potent that they usually have so many side effects, unpleasant side effects indeed, but nothing to get worried about in Mr. Starsky's case, so far."

The brunet had experienced a little vomiting, and that was good news. However, the retching had been strenuous. Dry, and it had left Starsky worn out and Huggy extremely concerned. Now his friend looked pale, weak and exhausted, even small in the immensity of his Hospital's bed; his breathing was slow, seemed so difficult, that it was scary.

"So is it normal he looks so ill? His breathing's kinda slow" Huggy asked.

"Yes, calm down. I have checked his vital signs and his CO2 stats, and everything's in control Huggy, under the circumstances. Fairly good I'd say." She nodded and continued, "He'll be all right," She said, expecting that to happen, actually, and feeling amazed by the man who was lying on the bed and without taking her eyes off him.

She just couldn't.

Huggy smiled and sighed; he stroke his own face. He knew.

"He's being monitored," She continued saying, "His heart's rate's good," she added, her eyes still clutched in the prone figure on the bed. "He hasn't had any fever, so far. This is just the way his body's coping with the aggression suffered by the drugs; that's all," She smiled gently. "It's just that some patients react in this way... quite lethargically, I guess that he's just gathering his strength back to recover fully. You'll see." Caroline looked at Huggy, encouraged him and winked her eye.

"I'll see?" the slim man chuckled, "Doctor, YOU should see him. He's a bundle of nerves" he said and smiled softly, "Curious, reckless, childish, sometimes cocky but…" he shook his head at the memory.

She interrupted him "You speak so lovingly of your friend that it's nice to witness, Huggy. I'll bet he's always positive, too. I was talking to him the other day, and he seemed to be just like that, he was kind of… cute," she said insightful, "_Okay, now I lost it!"_ She thought.

Huggy smiled, "_I like the chick_," he thought, "Yep…kinda cute, indeed. You can count on that lady!" he said.

They both smiled, and she sighed.

"Anyway…" she continued regaining her professionalism, "Tomorrow he'll be sicker if anything and neither you have to feel scared, okay? We're gonna give him a stronger dose for a shorter period. Only one hour. But the way I see it, this is only the chemo's reaction," she said knowingly.

Huggy nodded and asked, "Doctor, you think that we must notify someone else, as well? I mean his family, besides his partner, you know..." Huggy frowned and made a face.

She smiled, softly, and answered. "Huggy, though his prognosis isn't good, we, I -" she sighed, "I expect that maybe he could overcome this stage he's in and well, he has already talked to me about his partner. He's convinced that it wouldn't be the best for him to notify this... Hutch was his name?" Huggy nodded, and she continued, "about his current situation. And although I don't think that that's the best of the ideas we must accept that when it comes to non-medical advice, our patient's decisions are theirs. That's the patient's sovereign right. I've already told him that he should notify his mother, but he denies that possibility too. I think that he just needs some more time to adjust to his situation, and that's a really typical reaction to the sickness, I can tell."

"So you think that it's okay we don't tell anybody else?"

"No. I didn't say that it's okay. I said that it's possible for this to happen at short notice, to try to keep things private at the beginning until acceptance occurs. Do you understand?" She said knowingly.

"But you don't know them, lady; Starsky and Hutch I mean" Huggy was so unsure about the consequences such attitude could carry for his best friends.

"No. I don't know them. I only know about cancer," she said and grimaced.

Huggy snorted and shook his head.

"Damn cancer," Huggy said, berating it! "Okay! So there wouldn't be anybody else for now except his Cap'n and me and Dr. Ressler so far."

"Looks like that way," she said, respecting her patient's decision.

"Yeah," Huggy said concerned and inflated his lungs. "He could be a damn pig head. Aside from the fact that Hutch's gonna kill us all; his mother, who lives in New York's gonna hate me. She's just an old lovely woman…"

"Huggy, if you think that this is too much a burden to you, you should discuss it with Dave," she said, motherly.

"_Dave? Well, well, well_", Huggy thought. "Yeah, I know, and I also know that he wanted to wait to tell her all about this just like to his partner until the moment when he would've more certainties about everything. And no… his aunt and uncle are too old too, and there's just nobody else. So I guess that I'm alone for the long haul here, doctor."

"If you think that you ain't up to it you can always take a step aside." She invited him to vent his distress.

"No. I wouldn't. I love him." Huggy said sadly.

She felt touched and nodded, "It takes time, give him time…" and she reassumed her cores assessing her patient's stats.

"Time. Yeah…" Huggy nodded.

She realized that Huggy was in so much distress that she decided to change the subject just to ease the moment and create a little distraction. The time was hard enough for him, so since she was weirdly interested in this patient, she kept asking. "But tell me, what about you? You're his friend since, when? And how?"

Huggy smiled with infinite tenderness at the evoked memory. "Starsky and I are friends for a lifetime. He's from New York, from Brooklyn most exactly," he smiled at the memory of the first day he met Starsky, "and he arrived here in Bay City when he was 13 years old. We got along just fine from the outset. Turned out to be that his uncle Al was my father's co-worker; we went to High School together… We've met at freshman year." He smiled again lost in his revery. "He was the poorest Jewish boy from Hancock Park. I was the richest black one from little Ethiopia… turned out we lived just ten blocks away," he shrugged. "We matched!" He smiled at the memory "He was..., he IS such a sport, a great dude."

"Yes… I'm sure of that, and so you are, Huggy. It shows." She smiled.

"Thank you," Huggy said quite smitten by the moment.

Caroline sighed and said, "I would stay here, it's been nice, but I have to check on my other patients. Call me when he wakes up, okay? But let him rest. See you around."

And she left the room.

*********************S&H***********************

"_It had sense,"_ Huggy thought … To feel so tired.

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his face, releasing the air he didn't know he was holding back. While he was sitting alone in the freshened room, after thinking about the good old days, he thought that it had a sense.

Everything.

Starsky's tiredness, his fears, his disappointment.

He was tired, too… of everything, just like his friend.

Besides, the morning itself had been hard enough.

For both of them.

After all the previous checks, the blood cell counts, and the echocardiogram during the night before, the lurid cocktail had been started at 7.30. Starsky had taken a handful of pills to counteract the expected joint pains, the stomach cramps, the tingling and the numbness. For five, long and endless hours, the drugs had been administered into the brunet's veins; at least that was what Huggy believed since It was hard to keep track of everything even time indeed in that place. However, he could remember vividly the last three hours that had been experienced in utter dismay. The cramps were so fierce that his friend bent in pain. Undoubtedly, Huggy was now relaxing as well. His body was responding to the previous stress just like Starsky's body and that was to be expected.

It had a sense the feeling of tiredness.

Though Huggy wasn't sick with cancer, he felt paralyzed but he knew that if he wanted to be of some use to all in this painful ordeal he would have to recover his common sense, his coolness, and that it had to be soon.

Neither could be that Starsky had to take care of his buddy's mental state too when he awakes. But it was 1.30 PM, and the first day of chemo was coming to its end, and the brunet still didn't wake up, so he was scared. He called Caroline.

*********************S&H***********************

"Listen, you continue to support and please Dave when he wakes up, and we'll soon be passed this, okay?" Caroline said when she came back into the room, familiar with these situations and alarmed because her patient hadn't waken up yet though she didn't tell Huggy.

"I wish that it might be enough. Yeah, It's okay", the lanky and tall man said.

"It'll be, trust me," She smiled to Huggy and held his hands, "You call me when he wakes up, that's good?" And she left, again.

2 hours later, Starsky woke up.

At 3.30 PM, Starsky's ashen complexion was already gone, and he opened his eyes; though he was feeling a little numb, he could still say that he felt relatively good. At least happy, when he found out he was not hooked to anything else but the heart monitor. The nurse had checked on him a few minutes before and had said that he had to start being permanently hydrated.

"Come on, take it… these are Doctor Murray's orders," Huggy urged him to drink though he was a little bit resilient at the beginning. Huggy insisted since they said that he had to replenish the carbohydrates and electrolytes that he had lost because of the harsh retching; so he forced him to drink two full pints of, well… Gatorade. Starsky could be like a little kiddo sometimes, but then the nurse said that it would be better than water itself. Then, they watched TV and talked about nonsense.

"Hey, you've heard about Don Sutton's record?" Huggy asked him.

"Nope! What's to know?" Starsky answered while scratching his chin.

"The man entered the 3000 strikeout club yesterday, buddy, with the Milwaukee Brewers…," the doubtfully natty man said.

"No, kidding. Wow! So he's become the 8th pitcher who entered the club, hasn't he? That's terrific!" Starsky said.

"_Distracting and pleasing him and talking nonsense"_ just like Caroline said, "_Yeah, it would do!"_ Huggy thought.-

The day had been thick enough to keep on remembering about the whole damn cancer or the chemo. Sam and Dobey had called, and Starsky had personally answered the telephone. He also asked them if they knew something about Hutch, but he came back empty since it was the weekend, and they told him that they didn't know anything.

At 7 PM, he ate chicken soup and some toasts with peanut butter and at 8 PM suddenly while they were talking about the umpteenth nonsensical issue, Starsky fell asleep.

The brunet was so like a little kid about their conversation, so excited, that Huggy couldn't believe that so suddenly, he had shut down.

It was a dreadful moment for the old friend… like an omen; they were talking and he just … faded away, and Huggy froze in the anticipation of the absence.

Huggy knew that his friend had been mildly sedated. Beginning at 6.30 AM the next day, he would get his second dose, that's why they gave him sedatives. However, when it happened, when he went out like a candle, the way he did, Huggy felt very alone.

The feeling was uncanny and Huggy felt sad.

*********************S&H**********************

He was discharged at scheduled time on Sunday at 8 PM.

The only indication for Starsky was that he should avoid contact with any sick person until the next batch of chemo that was going to be on the 8th July; the third was going to start the 22nd.

The plan consisted of chemo treatments, followed up with blood tests and scans to see how the drugs were working on his cancer for two more sessions. He was going to be on a two weeks cycle so he wouldn't have to go for more chemo for the next two weeks, and then two weeks after that. Murray said that this was going to give his body enough time to regain his strength; sufficient time to get his white's blood counts up back to cope with the next treatment, but he also warned him that the second and the third doses were going to be harder than this one.

Hence, as its aggressiveness was going to be in crescendo, his strength was going to be decreasing conversely and the time to telling Hutch would arrive quicker than he expected since they didn't know how much these new treatments were going to wear him down.

Caroline said that they should see first, how tired he was going to be after this first round; that the way he was going to feel about it was going to be a sort of measurement of the way he was going to feel after the others. She also said that they must be aware that he, indeed, was going to be at least three times worse than the first time for each other round of chemo. So assuming in advance that to feeling worse would be the inevitable outcome of the other rounds, he knew that he was going to have to face his buddy in a two weeks term at the more.

Murray told Starsky that during the last part of treatment, he had to avoid the exposure to anyone with a cold or the flu or any other disease. The doctor told him that he should take care of himself, to the extent, that he was going to avoid even doing his job maybe. They said that it was mandatory since, his immune system, which was the defense shield against foreign invaders like viruses or something as ordinary as bacteria was going to be shot to death after chemotherapy.

As a result, given the kind of activity that he performed as a cop, they reminded him that he had to be extremely careful and prudent. Anyway, it didn't bother Starsky what was going to happen, since, at that time, he presumed would be strong enough to have already talked to Hutch about everything that was going on. He knew deep inside him that it was going to be inevitable and that by the time he was sure he was going to be ready to doing it so he would relax, wait for the time with no anxiety and trust his friend to help him.

Caroline also warned him that he was going to be as weak as a newborn kitten, wipe him out would be very simple; a fight, one blow, a cut, everything could be fatal. So, aside from the fact that he could live an apparently normal life he should be very careful not to make any strenuous efforts; it scared him, but he also knew that Hutch would take care. He was sure.

Everything was going to be okay; he just needed some more time.

Finally, before they left the Hospital, the doctors handed Starsky a white folder with all the physician's orders for the previous exams he should perform before the second and the third hospitalization term.

The envelope included the medical prescriptions for the drugs, the forms authorizing practices and guidelines to follow during the next month, the Life-sustaining Treatments and Physician's Orders for the terminally ill patients and also, the DNR forms, which he had asked for and that he should fill in...

Huggy took Starsky to his place after being discharged, since, the brunet said that he wanted to be alone, and he felt reasonably safe.

There wasn't any way for the man to convince him otherwise.

On Monday morning, he would go to the Precinct as if nothing.

So when Huggy called Headquarters the day after at 9 AM just to check on him and talked to Dobey; he could tell that the Captain marveled at Starsky's state and his precious saunter!

As he promised, the brunet was back doing the job beside Hutch like always.

*********************S&H***********************

"So you've been with her the whole weekend? Since Terry, you weren't this engaged with someone, buddy" Hutch asked, trying not to sound invasive. The way Starsky was handling his relationship with this Caroline was different, but he'll do.

"Yeah, well," he said maudlin, "I mean, nobody compares to Terry, Hutch…" he shrugged.

"Hey, I know that, but I hope that you can find someone like her, anytime!" He smiled. "I mean who knows if this Caroline girl, uh?" The blond haired man winked at his buddy and continued, "I'm a loner, and I assume it; I'm aware that the white picket fences' dream's just over for me, but you… You are not, buddy. You still have that in mind, and I hope you can fulfill it sometime. I'm pretty sure you will! Besides, you'll be an awesome father, Starsky, and I don't wanna miss that…" He winked again and gave a little smile to him, but when nothing but silence came back, Hutch insisted, "Hey, Starsk?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry. I was just elsewhere." Starsky said deeply afflicted.

"Like I said, you are IN love, pal!" the blond-haired man misconceived his reaction.

Starsky's extension suddenly rang, and he picked up the phone.

"This is Starsky, homicide" he frowned and raised his eyes to Hutch. "Okay Hug, we'll see what we can do. Going in… Let's just say, 20 minutes! Okay? Come on Huggy, it IS OKAY Hug! I - I'm gonna go, buddy, no worries," he said angrily. "I'm telling you that it's okay, Hug!"

"What happened?" Hutch asked while grabbing his jacket, Starsky was almost at the swinging doors.

"Looks like there's been a holdup at Huggy's, and Anita took the worst part of it."

*********************S&H***********************

When they arrived at The Pits, an ambulance and a black and white were already parked there, and Anita was frantically explaining to the cops what had happened.

Huggy was ashen white by her side, listening intently.

"Starsky!"

When the woman glanced at the door and saw that the pair of detectives was entering, she rose up and cuddled the brown-haired cop up with all her being. "Starsky, Hutch!" She started sobbing.

"Hey, relax Anita" - the moment didn't stand their usual banter, so the brunet called her by her real name - "What happened, sweetheart? Calm down and just tell me."

"It was him, Starsky! I'm sure it was him" she was hysterical.

"Just try to calm down and tell me, honey, who was he? Who are you talking about?" his tone, quiet and inviting.

"That man Starsky, Wayne. I'm sure it was him. He was wearing a hood so I couldn't see his face but," she was stammering, "but I recognized his voice. He asked me where Huggy was. He said that he'd been looking for him for the whole weekend. And he also told me that he hadn't been able to find him, so I said that he had gone to Santa Barbara with a friend." She said hurriedly.

Hutch opened his eyes in surprise and grimaced, "_Santa Barbara?"_ He thought.

She continued, "I've told him that he had taken a getaway and then he asked me where and with whom and I said that I didn't know that, that that was all that Huggy had said so far" she was agitated.

"And then? What did he do? Did he take something? Money, something else?" Starsky asked quietly.

"…Well, then he grabbed me by the hair and compelled me to open the back office... that's why I'm sure he was Wayne. I mean, how the hell anybody but him would have known about the room in the back?"

Starsky and Hutch looked at themselves and nodded.

"No, no, he didn't take any money." She continued, "He only forced me to open and started rummaging around until he took couple things," she finished.

"Like what? What did he take?" was Starsky's polite question.

"…A photo album and a white folder with a few ultra-pink card forms, with a logo imprinted on it, I - I don't know. That wasn't... Oh, I don't ... yeah, and Huggy's phonebook ..."

There was a long, unbearable pause until Starsky regained his voice. He swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his sore throat.

"You mean a white folder? With ultra-pink cards?" At that point, Starsky was increasingly agitated by the news and couldn't take his eyes off of Huggy.

The day before, he had given him the folder the doctors had given him at Hope, in case Hutch unwittingly found it at his place. That way, he thought, the papers would be safer.

"Yeah, a white folder," Anita said, so after her short response, Starsky stayed silent and perplexed for the rest of the time, ceased to interrogate the waitress.

He just couldn't talk.

There was yet another long silence. Huggy and Starsky's glances were intertwined, and Hutch noticed, so he continued asking, as he always did, and replaced his partner at the task. The taller man couldn't grasp the reason his partner had become perturbed with Anita's words, but the impact they had provoked over his friend was beyond doubt.

Anyway, he thought that later he could find out and ask Starsky, so as usual, he kept on working and doing the certain questions.

"And where were those papers from? You saw a logo. They had something of interest?" The blond said to the hysterical woman.

"Oh yeah, but I don't know. Something like hope or something like that was written on the cover. They looked like legal papers, you know? Maybe I mean Huggy's claim about the recipe? Could be? Because he started cursing and saying obscenities when he saw those documents," she answered to herself. She startled and raised her eyes to the three men. "After that, he started brandishing the folder as a weapon to me and then, he slapped me three times with it!" She was desperate. "He yelled at me that I was a bitch and so, and he started threatening me!" she began crying. "Oh, no! I'm scared!"

At that point, Starsky still dumb felt like he couldn't breathe. He left the room with a lame excuse. He just wanted to disappear.

Hutch stayed leading the interrogation, and Huggy left the room behind the brunet partner, worried about Starsky's reaction.

The flaxen-haired man kept asking Anita about what kind of threats she was referring to while pursuing his friends' movements with his eyes.

"Well, it was confusing, Hutch; he said that I soon would know who he was and would find out the purpose of this intimate reunion. That - that he was gonna hurt me in the spot that hurts me the most. I - In whom I love the most. I frankly didn't understand." she finished.

However, Starsky and Huggy felt they did.

**ACT19 \- A SHOT IN THE DARK -**

"Hey, come on! Don't worry so much. Try to think about it. Who would be interested in that piece of information, Starsky? Who would care to know if someone has cancer or not?" The harsh meaning of his own words knocked even Huggy himself, but he kept on saying. "I mean when he finds out that those papers weren't related to the recipes' legal complaint he's gonna discard them, you'll see. He's a sick man, buddy, that's all, so we only have to phone Hope and ask the doctors to prepare a new folder for you again. I'd personally go and pick it up on your behalf, okay?" Huggy tried to sound reasonable and steadfast, and soothe Starsky who looked very distressed.

"And what if he uses that information? What if he decides that he can blackmail me or someone else with that information? What if he decides he can go to the Police Department? They will ban me of the force, and Hutch? Hutch will find out, and he will have to work alone, and he will know what indeed's going on and… Not yet please, not yet!" Starsky was frantic.

"Oh, come on, my man, what for? Relax, it won't happen!" He put his hand on Starsky's shoulder.

"I don't understand what for? I only know that my name's written all over those documents, Huggy, and I _am_ worried." He shouted frantically.

"Why are you so concerned about, buddy?"

The sound of Hutch's voice came out of nowhere, surprising them and they turned their heads to the source of that voice

"Hut-Hutch?" Starsky stammered.

Hutch frowned, curious "What's written? Which documents?" He ended up saying.

Hutch was returning from the back Office to the hallway in which Starsky and Huggy were. He was searching for them. When he found his friends, they were talking secretly; the Lab Team had already taken the fingerprints, and he had dismissed them. The black and white and the paramedics with the EMT's team were also gone, so the three of them were all alone. However, since neither Huggy nor Starsky answered, Hutch kept on talking, soundly pissed off by the time.

"If this is something about Santa Barbara, I say…" the blond shook his head, "Is it something about Santa Barbara? I mean, looks like there's something there; as if all roads lead to Santa Barbara. Boy... You, and now Huggy; Come on, level with me and tell me what's going on?" the blond asked suspiciously.

"Nothing's going on in Santa Barbara or anywhere. Now you imagine things, seeing ghosts? Nothing happens in Santa Barbara!" was Starsky's first sharp response.

"Oh, c'mon buddy, I'm fed up with all this crap! Bullshit that ain't happening anything. You're hiding me something, Starsky, and I wanna know it right now! You turned exasperatingly silent in the Office before," he said flustered.

Starsky said nothing and didn't look at Hutch either.

"Starsky, you tell me, what's going on?!" the blond man insisted.

Still nothing.

"Damn you!" Hutch said incensed and gave a punch to the wall, desperately trying to understand, to grasp what Starsky was doing to him, even more, what he was doing _with_ him.

It was just unbelievable, he could barely control his anger and his rage, and he knew that his partner was hiding something from him.

"Hey, cool off, man!" Huggy tried to stop Hutch and prevented him from breaking his hand.

"That's paranoid, Hutch! You're paranoid," Starsky cried full in anxiety. He was scared.

"No, no. That's not paranoid, and I'm not paranoid. And you know damn well that I'm not!"

The screaming was so loud; Huggy couldn't believe what was happening to his two best friends. He started trying to calm Hutch down yet again, stepping between him and Starsky but at the same time, he was attentive and worried about Starsky's state of mind and breathing, which was increasingly agitated.

"I mean what's going on in Santa Barbara, Starsky? Because I actually found it strange at the time you went there, but now… Huggy went there as well? Why don't you just tell me what's happening for once and all?"

The flaxen-haired man stayed still, waiting for an answer, and explanation that never came lately. His big light-blue eyes were full of doubts, and he sounded even more agitated than Starsky's impairing breathing sounds.

Huggy was wordless, whispering at their sides. "Calm down, Hutch," the slender black man didn't know what Starsky was going to say, so he stayed quiet too.

Hutch went on. "Lemme be, Huggy" ignoring him, he looked at Starsky, who was standing behind him and looking at the floor.

"And worst of all! I entered this room, and I caught both of you, my very best friends", he beat his chest, "you were all secrecy, whispering and babbling all the way behind my back. Like undercover, talking clandestinely, something about your name or Santa Barbara, those documents! Oh! I don't give a damn now." The blond was flustered and mostly, sad.

"Okay," Starsky shouted. "Shut up! It's Caroline..." a long pause preceded Starsky's unexpected explanation, Huggy's eyes were also all over him, clueless. "She lives in Santa Barbara," the brunet said briefly and unexpectedly.

"What? Your girl lives in Santa Barbara? So you were with her the other day, weren't you? When you said that you hadn't dated anybody, okay?" Hutch felt insulted, cheated "Why did you have to go and hide that from me too, buddy?" Hutch felt so challenged by his partner, he could hardly believe.

"And what did you expect me to say? You were scolding me as if I was your little kid lately. The other day at your place, for instance." Starsky said trying to divert the attention.

"I wasn't scolding you. I was trying to talk some sense into that soft brain of yours. After everything that we've been through Starsky? At least you have to pretend that you'll try to respect the agreement we have."

"Agreement? So you're angry with me because you mean I was breaking that…" Starsky couldn't find the words and chose the worst of them "covenant we supposedly have?"

At the precise moment, Starsky said it, he immediately regretted and closed his eyes.

He had gone too far.

"Covenant? Our relationship?" Hutch squeezed his eyes, full of disappointment. "Thirteen years of trust and loyalty and that you called it? A covenant, a supposed covenant?"

Starsky was speechless, and Hutch looked hurt.

The silence was stern until Hutch regained his strength and said. "I don't know the reason you decided to lie to me, but I feel like this is all broken, buddy. Our _'covenant'_ is broken. For some reason, you've lost confidence in me, and I can't go on being your partner if that happens, just like that."

"Oh, Come on, Hutch!" Starsky filled his lungs with air; he was feeling so sorry he just couldn't breathe, "This has nothing to do with loyalty or trust… not even with confidence!" Starsky was worried he couldn't find a solid answer to Hutch's despair.

"Oh yeah, it has! It's all about trust, buddy. I feel like every little second that pass I'm losing you, and It hurts because I know I hurt you so much in the past. And I feel guilty about it too, but I never thought you would be that vengeful" he said contrite and guilty. "I can't reach you, pal. I can feel you're going further and further away from me, you're so far away". Hutch looked down at the floor. He felt despondent.

Starsky lost his sight to the floor too; he felt guilty and a traitor.

Without looking at Starsky, he kept on saying, "And It hurts buddy. It reminds me of all the stupid things I did wrong, of how much I hurt you in the past and, above all, what happened with Kira…". He made a long pause until he recovered and raised his sorrowful eyes to his partner. "I can't take Kira out of my mind, Starsk." Hutch sighed and felt ashamed, he still felt responsible for the story between the two friends and the woman detective, so he closed his eyes.

Though it's been eons ago, that gap was still bleeding in him, and he felt that he would never recover, he wouldn't heal. Hutch felt ashamed, he couldn't believe the way he had been seduced by the low morality woman. Neither could he believe himself, the way he had betrayed his friend. He knew that somehow inside him, he felt as if he couldn't repair it either, so he said, "I'm so sorry I did what I did. I can't override it, and I understand you."

"You don't get it," Starsky said shaking his head. "Hutch? What are you talking? She was such a slut, buddy. This has nothing to do with Kira!" but Hutch interrupted him, the blond didn't listen to his friend and kept saying. "Starsky you're different. I don't know what you think that I'm capable of doing now that you're dating someone, which you fell in love again, but I ain't blaming you either, buddy. I can understand why you keep on hiding from me your story with this Caroline after Kira and I can understand why your trust Huggy. I'm sorry." Hutch's eyes were full of sorrow.

"Oh No! Don't! Hutch, it's not that. I never would think…" Starsky was so drained that he thought he would pass out, but he recovered and said… He felt desperate at the misunderstanding. He was trying to protect Hutch with his silence; he didn't want to make him feel guiltier than he already felt. "After everything that has happened since Kira till now, buddy? After everything that we've been through?" He laughed, puzzled. "What do you think, that I don't realize how much you love me? That I don't know that Kira's mess wasn't your fault? That maybe I was the one who got it all wrong in the first place? After all that you have done to me after Gunther, Hutch? After all, I've seen you suffer because of me after Gunther?" The brunet broke, "Do you think that I believe that it hadn't been enough? Do you think that I didn't realize that I'm alive because of you? You brought me back, buddy. And this has nothing to do with Kira or this… Caroline! Everything between us always has had a meaning, the way we were, we still are. I care for you, Hutch. That's all..." Starsky was on the verge of crying, and Hutch looked at him the minute he stopped talking. Recognition hit the blond man, so Starsky continued, "You're the best friend I've got in the whole world, buddy; you're very important to me. You'll never know how important you're to me, and nobody and nothing" he shook his head, "let alone any stupid woman's gonna come between us. Nobody and nothing that happens could ever change that fact. In my life, you're the most important person. I bear no grudge against you. I'll never bear anything against you… that's not it; that's not it…" Starsky tried to explain, but he couldn't say the truth. He couldn't hear himself saying it, so his words had no real meaning for Hutch. And the brunet realized that for his buddy, his words sounded more like a cliché than anything else. They were like empty. He knew that what he had been saying hadn't been consistent. However, he could not say any more.

He just couldn't.

He tried to reach his buddy, to hug him, but he found a barrier in Hutch; he could not break down.

"Don't try to hide your feelings anymore, Starsky. This is different; you're distant even before you've met Caroline. You… I don't know" Hutch shook his head in disbelief. "You can't share with me the fact that you're in love, or trying to start a new relationship. And that is my fault. I am responsible for the fact that you're still hurt, after all these years. But I don't know what to do to make you trust me again, love me again. It's been a long time! This is killing me, but I guess this is the reason, buddy, and I understand you."

Suddenly, they heard noises, which were coming from the saloon and the desperate cries of Anita that were yet again invading the place.

Hutch, Starsky, and Huggy rushed after the screams, desperately trying to see what was happening.

*********************S&H***********************

When they entered the bar, Anita was lying on the floor next to the counter. Her body was clutching to the bar stool. Her blouse torn, and she was shouting desperately, pointing out to the door in the back of the bar that led to the dead end alley, the door ajar.

As many criminals did, Bromley liked to return to the scene of his felonies, somehow it was a demonstration to the victims and possible onlookers of his power… and he wanted to feel powerful.

"It was him! It was him! He came back; it was him!" She said in shock.

Starsky tried to calm her down, and Huggy attempted to stop Starsky, knowing that he would go running after the fled man and afraid that he could faint at the extent of the effort.

Murray's words were sounding loudly in his mind.

"It was him! It was him, Starsky!" she repeated. "He said that he was lurking around the place, waiting for the cops to get outta here. He shouted to me, said that nothing would prevent him to enjoy his private party. He was enraged, furious. He told me that he was starting to do it right now that there was no more time available, and then he rushed through the back door."

Huggy never made it on time.

Never managed to stop Starsky from going after the suspect since after Anita gave the indication, he ran full speed to the dirtbag that had vanished in the dark alley, immediately.

And so did Hutch.

To being cops was in their natures.

And in a minute, they had both disappeared.

*********************S&H***********************

The continuous bursts came from the depths of the alley. The fugitive was invisible. In the darkness, only the glowing radiance of the blasts was reflected.

A submachine gun, a 9mm or an automatic, whatever… But the sounds came from at least two different weapons, that was a given. The frequencies of the shots, however, made Starsky and Hutch hesitate whether there was just one shooter, two or several.

The only thing they knew for certain was that it smelt like a treacherous ambush.

The two cops stood next to the back door of Huggy's Bar, barricaded behind the trash cans, thinking silently about the strategy.

Starsky's shallow respirations started to sound ridiculously absurd, but he couldn't handle them.

"You okay?" were Hutch's words.

"Yeah… just worried" was Starsky's bleak answer.

As well, they had all the reasons to be worried.

Only a madman like the one hid in the back of the alley could challenge the police the way he was doing it. They both looked at each other, thinking and then, they shared their knowing glance, as the team they were.

One nod, the ball was rolling in the air as Starsky liked to say, and they had a plan.

Hutch would cross the alley, zigzagging; Starsky would cover him, and so they would go forward, conversely. They would corner the suspect.

The plan was risky, but also hazardous had been the aggressor who had put them in this awkward position, and they had no choice. So they started.

One, two, three…

Starsky hit the ground, rolling and took the position from there, gunning toward the dead end, inhibiting the suspect to return fire. The shooting paid off, and it gave Hutch enough time to reach the front sidewalk. Hutch was facing Starsky now, another nod, he looked him in the eye, also hid behind the trash cans in front of him. It was Starsky's turn; he would cross, and Hutch would cover him.

One, two, three...

A nod from Hutch and the Brunet started running. The titanic effort almost took his air out of his lungs leaving them seemingly empty. In the middle of the alley, Starsky thought he would fall. He faltered, but he drew strength from which he could and reached the other side of the sidewalk by Hutch's side, both safe and sound.

However, his chest felt like it was going to explode.

His insides felt like cut by thousand razors, and he struggled to breathe.

"Hey buddy, you're okay? Betcha you still have that bug", the flaxen-haired man asked his fellow worried.

"Yeah… Yeah. Just, ah... ouch!" He shook his head, "A little winded, that's all. What the hell's going on?" Starsky said matter of factly.

"The man's crazy, that's what's going on. But you stay quiet," Hutch realized that this time everything depended on him, that this time Starsky wasn't in control "You sure you are okay?"

"Yeah," He patted Hutch in his chest. "What can we do?" he snorted and gave him a weak smile.

"Run forward as always. Listen, are you up for it? I'm going next."

"Yeah…" Starsky patted Hutch on his chest again.

"On three" the blond man nodded.

One, two, three...

Another round of shots and Hutch ran to the next column to his left on the other side of the alley, crossing it again, he barely achieved it.

The staccato of Starsky's S&W had been on time, but he'd spent the full 14 rounds he carried. Starsky was a little bit confused, but he did well, so he nodded and asked Hutch to wait since he should change his magazine.

There were three more columns to reach the end of the alley where this very insane man was hidden, two on the right and one more on the left side.

They wondered what they should do; a long silence was the response from the background. Until the moment that Starsky's clip loudly came into the air followed by the horrible voice that was preceded by a mocking, haunting laugh.

"You ran out of ammo? Hey, you ain't ever gonna show up? You scared hotshot?"

Three questions and Hutch despaired. He frowned wondering who the man could be and screamed.

"Put your hands up in the air. You should realize you have no way out. The whole Police Force's coming, and you wouldn't make it out of this alley alive!" The blond warned him.

The man from the back continued laughing derisively, his spooky laugh, "And who's talking there?" he said.

"This is Detective Hutchinson. Who wants to know? You're trapped, asshole! Like I said you've got no way out."

"And who's gonna trap me? Are you pulling my fucking leg? You shut up Hutchinson, where's the other one? You always come in a pair! I wanna hear your partner's voice here, or you're all alone? What's going on Starsky? Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you're a little bit scared?" the crazy man said devilishly.

Starsky made a gesture, his throat was so parched that he could barely utter a sound, and he was feeling worse and worse. "_Not now, damned if you do and damned if you don't,"_ he thought. He signaled Hutch that he wasn't going to talk only not to give out his position and Hutch understood. Though it was not entirely true or the reason he wouldn't talk. He just couldn't.

"You ain't making the rules here. I'm talking to you; you're talking to me. You give up, and we ain't gonna press charges," Hutch said secured.

"I won't give up a fuck, pig. Not now that I'm almost there no matter what I found out. You know what's going on, detective? Do you know there's still time available to me? That there's still little time available for us? No!" he laughed maliciously, "I think that you don't know shit, pig, but I do. I've got everything here, and I can play a little more now though I have to hurry!" An ill cry again sounded, more than a laugh. "I like playing sick games like this Detective. When one lost everything, you've got nothing left to lose. When your damn Force won't be able to protect him anymore and before his time will be over, he'll be all mine."

The scoffingly infuriating laughter and the prophetic words contained a riddle that Hutch could not decipher.

"_Who's this man talking about? Huggy? Or what?"_ Hutch was clueless.

Meanwhile, the brunet started feeling more and more breathless, and nervous; he realized that the air was hardly entering his lungs, his ears started echoing more and more. The hum was almost beyond all bearing. He was afraid the man was going to reveal what he knew about him; he was sure the man knew everything about him.

He felt as if he would pass out.

"What are you talking about? Whom are you talking about?" was Hutch timid answer.

"Some Detective Hutchinson! Starsky? Do you want me to go and tell him? Do you think that you would be able to handle it, Detective Starsssky?"

The man filthy stressed the surname and started laughing yet again an evil laugh… Starsky looked at Hutch, desolated and scared.

"You crazy wacko! Surrender, and there won't be pressed charges," Hutch tried to reason again.

Another vicious laugh, disgusting.

"Surrender? With just a few months to go? Being this close? Nooo, forget it! I'm enjoying this moment! I longed for this moment to come for years. I waited for this for years; I dreamed this time would come, and it finally did."

Starsky signaled Hutch that the crazy man was so engrossed in his revenge that he seemed to be distracted. From his point of view, the brunet could guess his silhouette to the left side of the aisle, under the rear exit of Connelly's Pawn Shop.

So did Hutch.

The light of the sun rays was giving out his shadow and position. "_It was now or never," _Starsky thought.

He regained what little strength he had and gestured Hutch that he would cover him while he runs to the next column beside him crossing the alley again in the same zigzag pattern. He knew Hutch was the only option they had. He knew that he wouldn't ever make it since he could hardly breathe and more or less even move, exhausted and drained as he felt; that there was not enough air in his lungs, that he could only cover Hutch and wait.

So he proposed his partner the strategy while displaying their silent communication.

It only took one nod from Hutch.

"_We will do it pal, on three,"_ Starsky thought.

Another nod.

One, two, three…

However, this time, the brunet wasn't fast enough.

Starsky began firing, but suddenly, a wave of dizziness made him stumble, and that precious second he lost made him too slow. Too slow.

He couldn't return fire, and the unexpected response from inside the alley was completely disproportionate.

The brunet had to reach for cover behind the fire escape of the building in front of The Pits to avoid being shot. At that moment, the devil from the back started shooting as well. He wrapped himself in a blaze of bullets, and he began running forward toward the entrance of the alley, incessantly. The man fired from right to left and forward, with both weapons, each one of them in each hand in a mad rush, like one damned Rambo and shooting Hutch in the middle.

Hutch, who stumbled to the ground in front of Starsky's eyes.

A shot in the head.

Starsky, in panic, could see how Hutch recovered first, barely.

The blonde-haired man regained his position crawling beside the trashcan in front of Starsky and stood up. He put his back on the wall but he was panting, his sight lost, so he raised his hand toward his head touching the sticky substance that was streaming down his face and was pouring from his hair. Hutch looked confused and dizzy, and he stayed motionless; Starsky saw how his legs couldn't stand him anymore, and then they gave up. His whole body went down slowly, slipped through the wall, and sank to the ground. Starsky ran to help him, with all his force and could hardly try to catch him on time.

They ended in the middle of the alley, bent in two, crashed into the wall, like two broken inert dolls.

Hutch's face and his head were full of blood while the laughs of the insane man were receding into the distance further and further.

"God! Nooo! God, Help me! Nooo!" Starsky's screams were heart-wrenching. In a second Huggy was out of the rear door, calling frantically to Anita to get an ambulance.

"Hutch, come on, buddy, Hutch please, breathe, breathe… please," Starsky was like a madman.

"Oh, My God." Huggy involuntarily said aloud when he saw what had happened. He was desperate, too. He reached for Hutch's throat searching for a pulse; he thought the blond was dead, but then he found it, a sharp and loud beating.

"Starsky! Starsky! Relax man, he's breathing, calm down… He's alive! Starsky buddy, Starsky, please. Can you hear me?"

But Starsky couldn't.

Huggy shook the brunet up to make him fully respond, but Starsky was unable to focus, frozen and breathless. He was alarmingly agitated and not able to react and realize that Hutch was still alive.

"He's dead, Huggy, he's dead, and it's my entire fault! I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't…"

Hutch was sprawled in the tarmac while Starsky's anarchic body pounced on him as he started shouting heartbreakingly.

The brunet just couldn't control himself.

"His head's so full of blood; he's dead Huggy; he's dead, so full of blood!" Starsky's airways devoid of air were closing, "Oh, God" he started panting, "He's dead! God, I'm sorry Hutch! I wasn't fast enough, buddy. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

Huggy tried to calm Starsky, to make him react. He attempted to make him realize that Hutch was only shot and not dead, but he could see how Starsky was getting more and more distant. He could feel how he couldn't draw a breath, how he began breathing his futile gasps, how he couldn't hear.

Huggy could see how Starsky's spirit was gradually leaving his body.

He could see how he was getting blue.

Helpless to make him understand and listen while he assessed Hutch's state, he realized that Starsky had become unresponsive and slowly lost consciousness believing that his buddy was dead.

Meanwhile, from a distance, Huggy could hear the sounds of the ambulance blowing in the wind.

_To be continued..._


End file.
